


Greased Monkey

by d15c0rd



Category: Furry (Fandom), Hmofa, Original Work
Genre: Anthropomorphic, F/M, Furry, HMOFA - Freeform, Human, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, POV Male Character, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 42,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d15c0rd/pseuds/d15c0rd
Summary: All art provided by SpinateR.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 128





	1. Early is on time, on time is late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All art provided by SpinateR.

You jolt awake at the sudden blaring of your alarm clock. You quickly turn it off to save your hearing. Five A.M. Fuckin' five in the mornin' is when you've gotta wake up now. Six was already bad enough. How in the hell are they even allowed to make teens get up this early when it's been proven to be terrible for your health? At the very least shouldn't high schoolers be the ones who get to wake up the latest? A knock at your door interrupts your internal ranting.

"You awake?" Your dad asks.

You just about muster up the energy to respond. "Yes."

"You getting dressed?" He quickly shoots back.

Slipping out of bed, you respond again. "Yeah."

"You better be at the table in **ten** minutes."

You waste no time putting on some new underwear, followed by a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

You take a seat five minutes early, or right on time according to what he always says. While you eat some of the eggs and toast on your plate, he speaks up.

"The school says your bus stop gets picked up at six forty, so you better be out of that door before six ten. Can't have you missing the bus, especially not now."

Why does it matter that much now? They have your records, not like they'll think you're running around with some gangs skipping school if you miss the bus one time. If anything they should _expect_ you to miss the bus since you aren't used to it.

"I know, dad. It's not even that far. I could probably get there in twenty minutes."

"You're leaving no later than **six ten**. Got it?" You don't know why he's being such a hardass about this, not like you were even saying you weren't gonna.

"Yes. I'll leave at six o' nine, alright?" That seems to satisfy him, for now.

"Good. I'll know if you don't."

By the time you two have finished speaking and eating breakfast, he's already headed out the door to go to work.

"Have a good day. And keep an eye on the clock."

"You too, dad." And with that, he shuts the door. You hear the car start just a few moments later, and soon enough hear it fade out going down the road. You bring your backpack out to the living room and check to make sure you aren't forgetting anything. With what little time you have left you sit down and turn on the TV. Taking a brief glance at the local news channel you see that it's a little under sixty right now and that it's going to be in the sixties for most of the day. There's also a chance of rain, expected to be pretty heavy. Luckily it's only during school hours. You should probably get an umbrella soon anyways, even this time it's pretty close to being right when you're walking out to the bus. Speaking of- you take a quick glance at the clock and see that it's six o' seven. Picking yourself and your backpack up off the couch you head outside, making sure to lock the door behind you.

The walk to the bus stop is pretty uneventful, just trees, a few trucks passing by every now and again, trees, some squirrels, more trees, checking your glorified pocket watch of a phone to make sure you won't be late, even more trees, some dirt paths off of the paved road, _even more trees_. If it weren't for it being so warm in the middle of November you'd think you ended up in the middle of Siberia. It's hard to believe you're even still in America. After leaving the little cluster of homes yours was in, if you could even call it so much as a cluster, you haven't seen basically any signs of civilization. Finally making your way around this long bend in the road to the left a sudden wave of panic comes over you as you look ahead. You see the tail end of a school bus disappearing behind the trees just as soon as you've seen it. You grab hold of one of the straps on your backpack and break into a full sprint down the road. As you reach the corner you look down the road, not seeing so much as even a yellow dot in the distance.

Completely out of breath and trying to calm down, you just stand there, hand against a tree, thinking through what just happened. Fuck. Your dad is gonna kill you. You shakily take your phone out of your pocket to see just how royally fucked you are and see that it's... it's six thirty-seven. The bus had to have come at least five minutes early at the bare minimum. Stepping off of the rollercoaster, you manage to come out of this a lot happier than you expected to just a single minute ago. There's no way he would get pissed at you for the bus being this early. Looks like you get a free day off after all.

Taking a look around you you notice a big, somewhat beaten up, boxy van right across the road from you, with a fittingly big boar woman leaned up against the side. She's got a cap that says "Vic & Mac's Autoshop," a hoodie tied around her waist like some sort of schoolgirl, a pair of sweatpants, and a slightly dirty wife-beater with some oil stains in it. She's also looking right at you. Now that you've noticed that she takes the opportunity to speak.

"Heh-heh! Saw that, kid. Shame you missed the bus at the last second, huh?"


	2. Preheat oven.

Now there's something you'll never get used to. How easily and seemingly at random people down here make conversation. Not much point trying to weasel out of this one.

"Yeah, just wasn't expecting it to come so early. Guess I underestimated how long of a walk it was out here."

After a short pause and a couple snorts from her she speaks.

"Well kid, I could give ya a ride back to your place if you wanted." You respond quickly.

"Back to my place? Why not just to school?"

Wait, shit. Oh fuck hopefully she doesn't say yes to that. Hopefully you didn't just re-fuck yourself into having to go to school anyways. She snorts a few times and soon responds.

"To school? Heh, as if." That sounds a bit suspicious. "You kiddin me? Big dirty sow drops a little human boy she don't know off at school late?" She snort/chuckles to herself a bit. "Ain't no one gonna think that was anything but dirty." Oh, right. That makes a lot more sense.

"I'm not that little." You retort. That part was just unnecessary. She snorts/laughs to herself a bit more.

"To me you are." She says, standing up straight. And while you still aren't little, she is most certainly much larger than you. She's almost as tall as the van itself is, easily well north of six feet, maybe even above six and a half, and probably double your weight at the bare minimum. If that fat on her were muscle she could probably even take on your dad. You coming to terms with the fact that she could snap you like a twig is interrupted by the feeling of a faint drizzle on your head. "So, kid, you want a ride back to your place or not?"

"Sure." You say, somewhat defeatedly. That elicits more than a few snorts from her. As you begin walking around to the other side of the van she interrupts you.

"Get in the back." That... seems a bit strange.

"Huh?" You mumble. She quickly answers.

"Passenger seat's busted, you gotta sit in the back." Oh, that also makes more sense. You tell her what road your home is on and then go around to the back.

Opening up one of the back doors, the windows of both being completely covered, you're greeted with the sight of a very ill-kept van. The seats are worn, there's fur in random spots across the fabric floor, which itself has more than a few stains, there's some cans, candy wrappers, and bullet casings behind the front seats. There's a few decorations here and there, like a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror, but overall it's in quite the sorry state. There's also a playgirl magazine in the pocket behind the passenger seat. It's probably for the best that all you can see of it is the title. You take a seat and buckle up with the waist-only seatbelt available. Hopefully her driving isn't too bad.

With your legs stretched out and you leaned back against the seat it's actually surprisingly comfortable. She seems to be a pretty competent driver. Even moreso with how heavy the rain has gotten since she started driving. You can also barely hear her snorting from back here thanks to it. Unfortunately, something _else_ has taken its place in distracting you. As much as you tried to ignore it when you first met her so that you wouldn't seem like a creep, the bumps in the road make it too hard to ignore just how big her boobs are. Well that's at least one benefit of her being so massive. You force yourself to stop your train of thought to avoid popping a boner in the back of a stranger's car and looking like a complete freak. Trying to make small talk, she speaks up, hopefully not noticing your staring.

"You don't seem like you're from around here, so where you from, kid?" Damn, is it that obvious?

"Des Moines, Iowa. Just moved here last month, was supposed to start school today." That elicits a small snorting fit from her.

"Heh, it ain't every day we get a big city slicker from up north moving down to these parts. When we do they usually just go off to one of the big name places like New Orleans, Baton Rouge, Shreveport, them places." Big city slicker, huh? She must really be from the boonies. "So, you got a name, kid?"

"Tristan." You state. Strangely, she doesn't offer her name in return. She doesn't even continue the conversation at all. You aren't all that big on conversation anyways, so you aren't gonna complain.

You don't know exactly how long it's been, but she's been driving for quite a while. Certainly much more than would take to get back to your place in a car. The van slows to a stop and she turns back to you.

"Sorry, kid, I must've overshot your place by like a mile, maybe two." She says, snorting a couple times. Well, she may be a fine driver, but she could definitely do with a navigator. "Rain's gettin bad outside, ain't going anywhere being in these woods y'know, should probably wait it out. Wouldn't you agree?" As much as you'd rather not spend too much more time back here with how dirty it is, you can't say she's wrong. It's damn near torrential out there. By the time you got home you'd probably look like you hadn't been in civilization for _months_.

"Yeah, probably should." You offer. She snorts some more.

"You said your name was Trent? Oh, Tristan, right?" Well, that's better than _some_ people are with names, yourself included sometimes. She doesn't seem to be waiting for a response, but she also doesn't say anything for some time, only a few snorts. Eventually, she continues. "You wanna see my gun, Tristan?" Her gun, huh? Eh, may as well, not like you've got anything else to do.

"Sure, why not?" She snorts a couple of higher pitched snorts, with a slight grin on her face.

"Heh, _see_ , I really _do_ know what a guy wants, heheh!" Letting only another snort interrupt her, she quickly continues. "Guys love guns, right?" Seems like a strange thing to ask, or really just to not know in general.

"I don't know any who _don't_." You respond. That seems to put some pep in her step.

She climbs out of her seat, over the emergency brake, and into the back with you, shaking the whole van somewhat in doing so. After reaching into some compartment hidden out of view she sits down right across from you. She's got a dinky little beat up revolver in hand that looks almost like some Chinese knock-off of a toy gun. Though the metal body and bullets visibly loaded into it make damn sure you know it's the real deal. You also neglect to mention any of that to her. Some people do not take kindly to having their guns insulted, and you'd rather not take the chance that she's one of them. That might even piss her off more than if you'd just called her fat. Interrupting your train of thought again, she begins telling you about it.

"This here's a little hand me down. It's called the RG10, short for Röhm Gesellschaft, which is German." She sounded more condescending than she probably meant to there. Though you _are_ surprised at how well she pronounced that. She snorts and continues. "Shoots a twenty two caliber round, small, but it's cheap. The guard fits my fingers just fine!" She goes on to show and tell more about her little gun like she's practically gettin paid to. As much as you're glad that she's happy, and more importantly that she hasn't robbed you, she doesn't exactly have the best trigger discipline, or control of the gun itself. There's been more than a few instances where she's passed the barrel straight over you while showing off different parts of it. Not much point in getting too stressed at that, you can't exactly do much about it. As you look up from the gun, trying to think about something else, and look at her face, you notice her staring straight at you, glaring, even. It's not a look that you've seen on her face in the short time you've interacted with her. She looks down at her gun, then back up at you with a steely gaze. Like she's found resolve in herself for something. Suddenly, she points the gun straight at your chest, leaving no room for doubt about whether or not it was intentional, and speaks.

"Take your fucking clothes off."


	3. Insert dish.

The sharp turnaround from the way she was seemingly just moments ago combined with what she said left you more than a bit dumfounded. Did she really just tell you to strip? A drop of sweat falls down your side. Unfortunately, the absurdity of the situation didn't seem to quell the more logical part of your mind. Being just a finger's twitch away from a painful death had you frozen in your seat with no clue what to do.

"Huh?" You responding like a barely sentient idiot didn't seem to be what she wanted.

"You not fuckin hear me? I told you to take off those clothes. **Now.** " Her grip on the gun tightens. Uhh... shit. No way you can weasel out of this one. Oh fuck. You really don't have a choice other than just die.

"A- alright." You manage to offer. You grab your shirt and begin to pull it over your head, feeling the damp pits of it rub on your arms as you do so. You put it down on the seat next to you and then slip off your shoes and socks. Her eyes are still locked to yours whenever you look at her. You fumble around with the button on your jeans, then unzip them, and shakily slip them off, nudging them off to the side. Looking down at your underwear makes you wonder if she really wants you to go all the way. Looking back to her gives you your answer and dashes that silly shred of hope.

"Go on." She says, motioning you down with the gun.

You slip your thumbs under the elastic band and wiggle your underwear off, not being able to stand up. You set them down on top of your jeans and sit back down, trying to avoid meeting her gaze. In the corner of your vision you see her slipping her left arm free. She then transfers the gun to her left hand, making sure to keep it pointed at you and with a finger on the trigger at every moment. She slips her right arm out and pulls her shirt off, tossing it on top of your jeans and underwear. Then, in one swift motion, she slips the hoodie and sweatpants off of her completely, tossing them onto the pile of clothes.

You try to avoid looking at her altogether now, desperately trying to stave off the inevitable as long as possible. She doesn't seem a very patient person.

"C'mere." For just a moment you think of bolting out the back door. You aren't stupid enough to give it any serious thought. Even without the gun she could easily catch up to you. You stop yourself from spending any more time thinking. You _really_ don't want to piss her off. Slowly, you look back to her, then get up and move over to where she sits. As soon as you get into range she grabs your arm with her free hand. Any remote hope of not being entirely at her whim is gone. She's even stronger than she looks and could probably snap your arm completely in half with just her grip if she felt like it. You're in a half crouch face to face with her, at this point focusing mostly on trying to keep what's left of your composure. She interrupts your thoughts.

"Well?" Right, of course. You don't get to be a passive observer.

You look down, and while not surprised, you're disheartened at seeing that you're already at a half chub. She's too furry to see much, but you can easily tell that she's more than ready from the dampness of her fur. With most your mental effort going towards keeping your cheeks dry and keeping down your breakfast, you mindlessly grab your dick and get it close enough to where it needs to be. You slowly push forward, and as soon as you're in you feel a rush of blood shoot through you. Won't be staying at half chub for long. She pulls you into her, your face now right up against hers with her boobs pressed into your chest. She snorts a couple times and speaks right into your ear.

"Don't make me do it." There's no point trying to pussy out. You can't do anything to her. Your best option is just to give her whatever she wants so that you can end this as quick as possible.

You put your hands on her waist and force the rest of yourself inside. She lets out a long and guttural snort, followed by her pressing her snout into your cheek, her tusk digging into your jaw in doing so. You continue thrusting. She doesn't snort much, instead just moaning right into your face. You hate to even acknowledge it, but you have to actively try to not moan as well. Tried quickly turns to failed as she lets go of your arm, instead using her hand to force open your mouth, simultaneously making you maintain eye contact with her as well. She doesn't let that continue for long. She soon pulls your face to hers, pushing her snout up against your mouth, dragging the two of you into a very sloppy kiss. Her snout is rubbing up and down your face, showing you just how wet and squishy it really is. Both of her tusks are now scratching at your face, one under your chin and one right below your eye. Whatever sounds you were making are completely drowned out by her moaning directly into you. You choose to tell yourself you weren't moaning to begin with.

She wraps her arm around you and pulls you tightly into her. Your chest is tight in her grip. The barrel of the gun is poking at your chest now, right into your left lung. At this point she's pulled your face so much into hers that she may as well just be mauling your face off. You don't think you're crying, but you really couldn't tell even if you were. She's already made your face too wet to feel any tears that may be there. There's an unfortunate, and much more significant realization you're reaching. This whole time your thrusting has only gotten faster. You can feel it. You're about to cum from this big disgusting boar of a woman. You're about to truly lose your virginity to her. In the back of a cheap old van with trash all strewn about. You're about to get her... oh fuck, no, no that's way too far. What if she shoots you for that? Even if she does, what about your kid? Would she kill him? You desperately pull away from her just enough to speak.

"Wait, I..." She doesn't waste another moment. She pulls your head back, makes you lock eyes with her, and speaks.

" **Don't** stop. Do it. **Inside**. Right now." You're completely taken aback. Despite that, you can't stop. It's too late to turn back now. Far too late. With her snout pressed to your nose, her staring deep into your eyes, and you having no choice but to reciprocate, you give your last few, and strongest thrusts. You cum straight into her, letting out a loud moan that you can't pretend isn't yours, and your legs stiff keeping you completely inside of her. It's easily the biggest load you've ever had, by a mile. She nuzzles you with her snout. You can even hear her... purring, almost?


	4. Let cool.

Only once she's absolutely certain you've finished she lets you pull out, then pulls you onto her lap. One arm wrapped around you, she cradles your head in her chest, slowly rubbing the back of your head as you silently cry into her fur. You muster up the will to speak a bit.

"Please," Your voice is even meeker than you expected it to be, barely a whisper. "J-just let me-" She cuts you off and pushes your head back into her chest.

"Shhhhh..." You barely even know what to think. She's shushing you? Like some sort of whiny baby? No. She's just mocking you at this point. She knows how pathetic you are. You even showed her yourself. Now she's humiliating you. Trying to make sure you understand just how completely at her mercy you are. You can't do anything but whatever she says, when she says. Like a pet Chihuahua trained with a shock collar for a Pitbull, except with no one to come crying at the injustice of it this time.

You don't know how long you two have been sitting here for. The rain is still pounding at the roof of the van. Your face has dried off, maybe not for the best though. Now without the crying to distract you you're forced to acknowledge her overpowering scent, with no way to smell anything but her. Unfortunately she hasn't gone to sleep either. Random snorts every now and again with the feeling of her periodically rubbing her snout into your hair followed by a long sniff and then a little kiss, if you could call it that, ensure you know that. Despite that, she's left you alone with your thoughts for some time, not speaking once since then. Maybe that's not a good thing. It's given you plenty of time to think about your future. Will she kill you and dump you in a ditch? Would you ever be found if she did? Is she gonna kidnap you and keep you as her slave for the rest of your life? Will she _sell_ you as a slave? Will you ever get to live an even slightly normal life now? And what about your kid? There's no 'What happens if I get her pregnant?' anymore, that ship already sailed. You really are going to be some kid's dad. First year of highschool and you've already ruined yourself. You can't take care of a kid. There's no way your dad could provide for a baby. Are you gonna have to drop out and get a job as a construction worker or something? What would dad think? Wait, what the fuck _would_ he think? Even in the best case scenario where he does believe you, what then? He kills her, her and your kid? Then he'd go to jail because no one else would believe you and he'd look like a psychopath that killed some random woman because his son seduced her. Or what if he tries and then _gets_ killed? Nothing could even be done to her because it would be self defense. Then you either become an orphan that no one will adopt or you... fuck no. You need to stop thinking about this before you just straight up go insane. It really would've been better if she just forced you into conversation. May as well just speak up, not like it could really get much worse. Trying your best to not sound like a rabid man desperate to not be executed, you pull back from her and speak.

"D- do I get to... go home?" She snort/chuckles lightly to herself a bit. Oh no.

"Depends." You really don't know if that's much better than the alternatives. You have to keep going, though.

"On what?" You force out. She thinks to herself for a moment.

"One: Don't tell anyone. Two: Even if ya did, no one would believe you. Number one is for your own sake because of that. I'm really doin you a favor by making sure you don't go making a fool of yourself, so just remember that. And three: I'm gonna see your house." Of course. She's already ahead of you. She knew no one would believe you from the start. That's why she went ahead with this, isn't it. But... that third part.

"My house? You aren't gonna do anything to my dad, are you?" She looks up for a second.

"Your dad? Nah, not unless he tries to start shit with me." Start? Really? Whatever, no point getting pissy about that. You _really_ don't want her back peddling on her offer. "So, _Tristan_ , you gonna promise me you'll abide by my offer?"

"I-" Are you really gonna do this? Your mind goes blank for a few seconds. Oh what the fuck does it matter anyways? You haven't had any real choice from the moment you got in the back of her van. You may as well just accept whatever bits of freedom she's still willing to give you. "Yes. Yes... I promise you. I won't break this deal, I swear." She snorts, grinning slightly.

"Good. Now what do you say?" Fuck, really? She's really gonna make you do this? You've already given up, but it still feels just pathetic and dirty.

"Th- thank you." And with that, she pushes you back into her and starts slowly rubbing the back of your head.


	5. Don't say goodbye.

After a fairly lengthy drive she finally pulls down the path to your house. The ground is still quite muddy from how heavy the rain earlier was, as made evident by how it sounds like she's practically driving through a small pond. Eventually the van comes to a stop, you grab your things, and head out the back of the van. Just as you get up to so, however, she grabs you by the arm and tugs you towards the front seat. She's much gentler than earlier, but still firm enough to show that it's more of an order. After she's got you still, she speaks.

"Gimme a kiss." It takes you a second to process, but by the time you do it really only makes you more tired. Why's she even doing this now? Despite that, you lean in for a kiss anyways, with her quickly doing the same and kissing you right on your lips. She then lets you go and you turn around to finally head out, wiping your mouth with your sleeve in the process. This time she grabs you by the collar and yanks you back up front, the console now digging into your lower back.

" **Hey** , that ain't any way to treat a lady. **Y'understand**?" You waste no time in responding.

"Yes." She continues.

"Good. Now try again." After a few moments you realize what she means. You barely even hesitate. You take her head in your hands and give her a deep kiss before she gets the wrong idea. You pull back as soon as you think you've done enough to satisfy her. With a big grin plastered across her face, she lets out a few snorts and speaks. " _That's_ more like it." _Now_ , you finally start heading out. As you do so she plants her hand on your ass in a hefty smack, sending you a good foot forward and making you let out one last little whimper.

As you step onto the porch and pull out your key, you look back to see her still parked right there, just watching you. She's still smiling, her eyes partially closed. You finally unlock the door and step inside, making sure to firmly shut and lock it behind you. Looking out the peephole, you see her doing a u-turn in the clearing of the land in front of your house. Soon enough she's heading back down the path, then turning out onto the street. You turn around, laying your backpack against the couch, and head towards the bathroom. Stepping in and turning on the light, you're met with a complete mess. Your face is stained, there's a big scratch across your cheek, your hair's a wild rat's nest, your shirt's dirty.

Having thrown your clothes into the laundry bin, you head back to the bathroom and start running the shower. While you wait for it to heat up, you grab some hydrogen peroxide and some cotton balls to deal with your face. It stings a bit, but not as much as you were expecting it too. Seems like it looks worse than it really is. By the time you're done with that the shower's hot enough to hop into. For a while you just stand there, letting the water run over you and rinse you off. Looking down, you can't help but think back to it. Most of all, how it felt. Ignoring the circumstances, context, and everything else about it... you hate to admit it to yourself, but that was the best time you've ever had. Just thinking about it has you ready to go. You're home alone, in the shower, you may as well get it done now. **No**. You grab the soap and begin washing your face. You can't let yourself think like that. It's disgusting and shameless. If you did _that_ then you may as well put up a big neon billboard saying 'To the random greasy boar lady, please come again, open 24/7, free of charge!'. Your thoughts are interrupted by pain. The scratch along your cheek is much more painful now having soap rubbed directly into it. Maybe you should be a bit more cautious with it. Don't want it sticking around any longer than it has to.

You thoroughly wash the rest of your body, thinking about mostly mundane things in doing so. Eventually you get around to washing your dick. You try to be just rough enough in washing it to be uncomfortable to prevent getting a boner, but not painfully so. You fail. Any other time you'd rather fail on the 'too soft' side. No. You aren't jacking off. You're just cleaning yourself. It doesn't matter that you're hard and rubbing your dick. But even if you were, it's just to the thought of having sex. It has nothing to do with her. You'd've done this after the first time you had sex no matter who it was with. Hand against one of the walls of the shower, you buck your hips forward, focusing what you can on not slipping. Just as soon as you started, you've finished.

You stand there for who knows how long, just staring at the shower drain. Your mind blank the whole time. You can't just stand here like a mindless zombie until you die, petrified from refusal to acknowledge what you just did. There's no getting around it. Even if you try to tell yourself otherwise, you know exactly what happened. You turn off the shower and quickly begin drying yourself off. After you've finished that, you hang up the towel and head straight to your bedroom, wasting no time in hopping into bed to take a much needed nap.


	6. Intermission.

You're slowly dragged awake by a tapping on your window. It's completely dark out, far too dark out too see whatever it is. Must be one of the trees. Wait, no. There's no trees close enough to your window for that. You shoot up in your bed. Your window is slowly forced open, the old flimsy latch on it simply bending out of the way, certainly too mangled to ever be used again. You see her climbing through the window. You can just barely make her out thanks to the moonlight. She slowly makes her way over to your bed, grabbing the sheets and tearing them straight off as soon as she gets in range. She climbs up onto your bed, and then you. She plops herself down right onto you, and then speaks, slower and more deliberately than she has before.

"What, boy? Don't tell me you really thought I was just gonna leave yous alone after I gotchu right where I wann'ed ya?" You're completely frozen, but before you know it she's made you swap places with her. She's gripping your hands in hers, with her legs wrapped around you, ready to force you into her once again. You can do nothing to stop her. In one sudden fell swoop she slams you down into her as far as you can go and then some, making you cum instantly.

You jolt awake, absolutely drenched in sweat. As you turn over in bed, you feel something get slathered across your thigh. You instantly realize there's more than just sweat down there. You don't even know what to think, so you opt not to. You turn your head back to look at your window. You can't even see it _or_ the outside because the drapes are completely closed. You look at your alarm clock and see that it's two A.M. Maybe you shouldn't have taken a nap after all. You're gonna need to brush your teeth extra in the morning to make up for having slept through when you were going to. You toss your sheets off of yourself, get out of bed, and head to the bathroom. While you clean yourself off you think to yourself. Why didn't dad wake you up? You haven't explained what actually happened to him yet so he probably thinks you just skipped. Maybe he's just waiting for morning to really put the fear of God into you. Hopefully he'll still give you a chance.

After you finish with that, you head back to your bedroom and grab the sheets that need to be washed. Bundling them all up you head back out into the hallway and towards the laundry room. Before you get there you're stopped dead in your tracks. There's no fucking way. You're looking straight out the window and seeing... seeing that it's daytime. Wait, it's two P.M.!? What the actual fuck? All that shit happened, you came home, took a shower, then even _took a nap_ , and it's only now just about time for school to let out? After standing there dumfounded for a few minutes you continue on to the laundry room. You load your sheets into the washing machine and set it on a cycle. You quickly go back to your bedroom and put on some clothes. What do you even do now? May as well get on the computer, entertain yourself, and get back into old habits.

After several hours, looking out the window through the blinds you see dad's car coming down the driveway. Wanting to set the stage as best you can, you get off the computer to not look like you've just been taking it easy the whole day and head into the living room to wait for him. Soon enough he's through the door and back home. He gets straight to the point.

" **So** , you want to explain to me why you weren't at school today?" You waste no time responding.

"The bus was really early." He continues towards you after having taken his shoes off.

"What's that?" He suddenly says while motioning to his face, marginally less stern than before.

"Tripped on the way home. Random stick that was poking up." He accepts that.

"Also- why'd you get back so late?" Shit, right, the alarm records every time the door's opened.

"Dropped my key on the way back when I tripped so I was locked out. I was in a rush because it was starting to rain. Had to sit under the porch until it stopped, then I ran back out to get it." You let yourself go on autopilot for that more than you'd've liked. Hopefully in your attempt to respond quickly to seem genuine, you didn't backtrack over something else you said.

"Alright," He simply states. "I'm letting you off easy this time, but you're heading out the door at six on the dot from now on. Do I make myself clear?" You sigh internally to yourself. Half of relief for not getting caught, but half disappointment for having even less time in the morning. Still, it's more than enough to be considered a success.

"Yes." You say, eager to put this to rest.

"Good. Now go get showered and I'll get dinner going."

"Already showered, since I got dirty when I tripped." He stands there for a second.

"Oh, right. Well, in that case, you can just go back to doing whatever you were doing for the day." No thanks. Instead you just go back on the computer. The rest of the evening is uneventful. After putting the sheets back on your bed you head to sleep.


	7. Town crier.

You wake up early, simply having to now, and go through your morning routine only half awake. Your dad leaves for work and soon enough you also leave, making sure you do so before six. The much colder air of this morning smacks you awake as you step outside. Still t-shirt weather, but also quite nippy. The ground isn't as bad as yesterday, but you'll probably still have to be careful to not track mud in. As you continue walking, trying to actually take in more of your surroundings to get acquainted with the land, you hear something off in the distance. The sound of tires against the dirt road. For a moment your heart jumps into your throat, thinking that you somehow missed the bus again and, well, _everything_ that would or could entail. Luckily after just a bit you realize it's coming towards you, meaning it can't be the bus. Besides, you're nowhere near close enough to hear the bus anyways. Whipping your head around another thought strikes you, much graver than the initial one. Surely not, right? You continue walking, half sideways to keep watching the road behind you, but able to keep moving towards the bus stop. It keeps getting closer. You're ready to bolt at a moments notice. Soon enough it comes into view. You feel damn near schizophrenic. It's just a random four by four truck. You'll take the relief anyways, last thing you need is to be worrying about the boogeyman popping out around every corner. You turn back around and keep walking, trying to calm your heartrate.

After walking some more, you begin to pass another one of those random dirt paths that lead deep into the forest, seemingly to nowhere, when you notice someone heading onto the road just as you pass by it. A white tailed deer guy with a sporty backpack and a small set of horns. You give him a small wave, but just as you go to say hi he interrupts you.

"Hey, good morning. Don't see too many humans around here." The fuck is this guy on? He's talking like it's noon right after he's had lunch. He walks up beside you and the two of you continue walking down the road together. "So I take it you're new around?" Well, you aren't gonna kick his friendliness into the dirt.

"Yeah, moved here last month, just started school this week though. Name's Tristan." He eagerly continues the conversation.

"Where from, Tristan? I'm Trevor, by the way." You continue small talk and introductions with Trevor. A large part of your conversation is just him inquiring into your personal details like some sort of detective. Seems like a nice enough guy.

The time it takes to get to the bus stop passes much faster with someone else tagging along. As you approach it you see a coyote and a few rabbits, but that's it. Must be one of the smaller stops. After getting to what could be recognized as the bus stop you realize that the deer guy's the only one that could be considered tall, or probably average. The coyote guy's only up to your shoulders and the bunnies are only up to his. Looking to you, his ears perk up and he speaks.

"Ey, didn't know we got a new kid." _She_ says. From the way she speaks she's probably a junior, maybe a senior. Her voice is more developed, and she speaks in a not-quite-sultry tone. You don't know if that's what she's trying for, but you certainly aren't going to ask as the first thing you say to her. You give her a little wave and a small introduction. Apparently dissatisfied with that, Trevor continues for you, telling her some of the details you shared with him on the walk here. On the bright side, at least you probably won't have to worry about not getting to know people or being stuck as the weird transfer student. After telling him in several different ways that you can speak for yourself, the coyote speaks to you again. "Guess you must not'a been around too many deer in the city, huh?" Deer?

"No, I saw plenty of deer." She chuckles slightly, smacks your back, and responds.

"Well, uh, Tristan, good to meetcha." You respond in kind. After that, you look to the rabbits, remembering that they exist. The biggest of the three gives you a silent wave so small it could barely even be called such, then turns around.

Soon enough the bus comes down the road and the six of you get on it. You head straight near the back, leaning your backpack up against the left side of the bus to use as an armrest. Excluding the deer guy talking to his friends, him making sure to give them all memoirs on the new kid in school, the bus is dead silent. Maybe it's just from how few people there are riding. That'll probably change as it fills up. Or maybe it's because most other people are just normal and don't like waking up before the sun. You sit and watch the scenery go by as the bus drives down the road. The scenery consists mostly of trees, though some signs, cars, and the occasional dirt road leading into the distance interrupt it. Speaking of, her van passes right by the bus. It was quick enough for it to not really register in your mind until it had already passed, but it certainly didn't feel like a good omen. You don't know if she saw you. Before you have a chance to get into a tailspin right before school you move over to the deer guy's seat to take your mind off of it. You try to act inconspicuous by asking questions about the school itself, the schedule, the teachers, stuff like that. Fortunately he's more than happy to be your tour guide.


	8. A return to normalcy.

Arriving at school you see only a handful of other buses. The school itself is even smaller than you expected. As the bus comes to a stop you pull out the paper with your schedule, teachers, locker, locker combination, and other necessary information on it. You give it a look over before getting off of the bus and heading into school. As you head straight to your first class you notice more than a few looks getting thrown your way. Even though you pay little attention to much of anything from how early it is, you can tell they aren't really glares. They're moreso just inquisitive and curious. Guess that deer guy really wasn't kidding.

As you arrive at your first class you barely get a chance to look around before the teacher, a fairly young-looking Golden Retriever woman, grabs your attention.

"Ah, you must be Tristan, I take it?" For a second you're surprised, thinking about how the deer guy must really be a big talker, until you remember that her being your teacher actually means something. _Obviously_ she knows who you are, it's literally her job to. You respond, trying to not sound as dumb as you think.

"Yep. And you're Mrs. Dougall, right?" She seems pleased with you, but only sort of.

"Correct, but it's pronounced dew-gaull, not dug-ul, and it's miss, not misses." You continue.

"Sorry," Just before you can continue she speaks.

"It's alright." She doesn't say anything else, seemingly just trying to slip that in there. Maybe as reassurance? You continue.

"Also, sorry about not being here yesterday, I just missed the bus." She's quick to respond.

"It happens, it was your first day after all." _See_? "Just don't let it happen again." You waste no time in reassuring her.

"It won't, don't worry." She keeps up the pace.

"Glad to hear it." With that, your conversation basically finishes. Quickly discussing how your previous school's curriculum compared to theirs, you find out your right along with them. Thanks to that, the only papers she has to hand you before class starts are what you missed yesterday.

Class is pretty bog standard, simple, and passes quite quickly. So quickly, in fact, that before you know it class has turned to classes and your already about to head to lunch. It _really_ didn't hit you until now just how much faster the schoolday goes by with all eight classes every day rather than four each day, alternating between them. Only having one night to finish homework for all your classes is definitely seeming to be worth it if this keeps up. As the bell rings, everyone heads out, down the hallways, and towards the cafeteria. With the small size of the school it doesn't take long to get there, even with your class being almost on the opposite side of the school.

Entering the cafeteria itself, you see a good chunk of people still waiting in line. Despite that, it doesn't seem like the cafeteria itself will fill up, or even get all that close to it. Having nothing else to do while waiting in line, you look around to what is probably just about all of the students that go to this school. While there is much more variety than at your old school, there's still plenty of repeating species like rats, rabbits, deer—a lot of the typical ones you'd expect to see just about everywhere. There's also plenty of canines and felines, with a few more exotic species sprinkled here and there. Despite that, in all of your looking, you've seen precisely one other human. It's certainly not a problem for you, but it's still quite the departure from what you're used to.

The line moves fairly quick, and soon enough you're headed back out into the cafeteria. Despite being one of the last kids in, there's still plenty of near-empty tables, leaving you without too much of a dilemma as to where to sit. You take a seat at a table with only a couple of rats at the other end. You'd rather just eat your lunch and be done with it. You pay little attention to them since you don't plan on interacting with them anyways. No point trying to waste time bothering the other kids during lunch when you'll have plenty of other chances to. The food isn't anything to write home about. It's really not too different from what you're used to as far as school lunch is concerned. Not having anything else to do, you think to yourself a bit. Despite meeting some new people and making yourself known, or rather, having yourself _made_ known by someone, the day has been very uneventful. Maybe you should just hope that continues on for the rest of the year.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the rat on the other side of the table from you get up. Assuming he's simply finished eating, you immediately return to eating and thinking. You're soon interrupted, however, as the rat sits down not quite directly across from you. Looking up from the table and directly at the rat you see that she's got a pair of fairly thick glasses, a weird sort of sweater type thing on, and that, well, she isn't a he. If you're lucky you'll able to continue keeping those mistakes inside your head. She hasn't said anything yet, prompting you to cock your head slightly, hopefully letting her know you're curious as to what she's doing here. Thankfully, she seems to get the hint, and speaks.

"H-hi, my name's Bethany, or just Beth, for short." Burger still in mouth, preventing you from speaking, you give her a little wave. "So, uhh, what's your name?" She couldn't wait a little longer? Not wanting the conversation, if you could call it that, to stall and get awkward, you hurry up your chewing. You swallow a bit earlier than you should've, causing you to have to force it down. You manage, but end up coughing a fair bit as a result. While you aren't you looking at her, you can tell she seems quite distressed by your hurriedness in her reaction. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" You quickly wash it down with a bit of milk, giving her a little OK sign so that she doesn't freak out and try to get someone to do the Heimlich Maneuver on you. Finally, you give her an actual response.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm alright." After twiddling her fingers for a bit, she responds.

"Okay, umm, I'm Beth, what's your name?" You didn't forget _that_ fast. After giving her you name she sticks her hand out to you. A handshake? Seems more than a bit formal, given the situation. You wipe you hand off and reciprocate anyways. Despite you looking at her, she seems very content to look at your hand the whole time you're giving it to her. She even shakes it in both of hers, which ensures you feel all of the weird little bumps and things she has on... on whatever the official term for rat hands is. Even after giving that more thought than you really should have, she's still shaking your hand. It's gotten more than awkward enough for you to speak up.

"Uhh..." While not exactly speaking, per se, it's more than enough to get her attention, and to get her to let go of your hand.

"Oh, uh, I, uh, s-sorry, I was just, uh..." Not wanting this to go on as it is any longer, you interrupt her.

"It's alright, don't worry about it." She instantly responds.

"Oh, good. So, uh, um, where was I?" Thankfully your conversation normalizes, with the two of you continuing to talk together in between eating.

As the bell rings, she quickly says her partings and rushes off to class. Hopefully people probing you for personal information doesn't become normal. At the very least hopefully it doesn't happen a third time in the day. You toss away your trash, grab your backpack, and head off to your three remaining classes. The previous pattern holds, with all three being quickly and easily finished. Thankfully the teacher of your last class lets you out a little early. Stepping out into the hallway you see that's only really early according to the official schedule, with all of the kids getting ready to end the school day and head home. Oh well, you aren't gonna complain anyways. Not having anything else to take care of last minute, you head straight to your bus. Plopping yourself down right in the same seat and arrangement as this morning, you watch the street right next to the bus loop and the few cars that pass every now and again. You're reminded of what you saw this morning, and for a second worry if you'll see the same again. You manage to push the thought out of your mind and let yourself drift off into a very light nap. Hopefully the bus won't be too much louder than it was this morning.

A firm tap on the shoulder gets you out of the half-sleep you were just in.

"Ey, Tristan, it's our stop." Surprisingly not the deer guy, but instead the coyote girl wakes you up.

"Thanks." You offer. As you get up, she heads off of the bus, you following shortly behind her. After the two of you have completely cleared the road, the bus rumbles off down the road. The two of you walk down the road together, completely silently. Seems she's not much for starting conversations. After today, that's something you've only grown more of an appreciation for. Soon enough she breaks off down a path, speaking without stopping.

"See ya tomorrow." You give her a similar response and continue back home.

Slipping your shoes off and laying your backpack up against the couch, you head to the fridge for a drink. Luckily all of the paperwork and homework you were given you were able to get done at school. Only stuff that's left is a few bits for your dad to sign. With nothing else to take care of, you head onto the computer to pass the time, and boy does it. Before you even know it you're dad's already headed down the path to your house. Looking out the window, however, you don't see his car. Unless he just felt like ripping the muffler off there's no way you should be able to hear it from that far out. Looking back to the computer you also notice it's much earlier than he gets off from work. You stand there with your face up against the blinds, waiting to see whatever it is. Soon enough your worst fears are realized as you see her van come into view.

What the fuck are you supposed to do? You can't stop her. Your dad isn't even here. He wont even be here for a couple hours, at least. There's really nothing you can do. You know why she's here. You can only delay the inevitable. Is there any point to even doing that? _Can_ you even do that? She could probably rip your front door right off of its hinges if she was angry enough. You trying to hide when she knows damn well that you're here would probably be enough to make her that angry. You strengthen your resolve for an uncomfortable realization, force yourself away from the window, and head towards the front door. You prepare to head out the front door and confront her. Heh, _confront._ As if. You're going out there to beg for mercy and for her to not do anything to your home. Despite that, despite forcing yourself to go through with your only option and just get it done, what you saw when you opened the door left you completely floored.


	9. Silverplate.

You stand there on the porch and watch as your dad steps out of the passenger seat of her van. You don't even know how to begin to react. He speaks as soon as he's completely out.

"Hey, Tristan. The car broke down on my way to work. Had to catch a ride there and back. On the bright side I'll be able to come home sooner, at least." Not having the slightest clue what you'd normally say, you try to sound inconspicuous and like you've never met her before.

"So, who's that?" Bad idea.

"Oh, her?" He says, pointing back to her, still sitting in the driver's seat. "That's my boss." You stumble your way forward to lean on the railing, trying your absolute best to not just outright seize up and die on your front porch. You can barely think. Not think straight, but think at all. This is far too much far too suddenly. This is some sort of cosmic joke. There's no other explanation for this. Are you dreaming? No. Just being able to think about this possibly being a dream eliminates that as a possibility. You can't do anything. If you stay out here you're gonna end up in the hospital. You need to remove yourself from the situation. You manage to get something out.

"I'm unna go take a shower." Thankfully he hears you and lets you go without question.

"Alright, after I head in we can talk over dinner." He yells out as you step back inside, closing the door firmly behind you. You quickly strip, tossing your clothes on your bed and heading into the bathroom.

Even though you make it into the bathroom, you aren't able to force yourself into the shower. You simply crumple over in front of the toilet, your head resting on your arms. You wish you could get this over with, but you just can't force it out. Your whole body is burning up. You know it's coming. It's inevitable, but you can't make yourself do anything but resist it. You feel like taking a bath in liquid Nitrogen. There's that tiny glimmer of logic that you know is there, but it's far beyond your reach. You feel the world collapsing around you. You heave, unable to make anything come out. Death itself has come to replace every cell in your body with neurons and dump you in a pit of boiling acid. It tries again to come up, but you force it down, against every bit of your own will. The rest of the universe has vanished. It so nearly comes out, burning your throat like a solar flare for what feels like years in a matter of moments. All of existence is the bathroom around you, and you inside it, set here to suffer for the rest of eternity. It finally gets out of your control. You throw up directly into the toilet. It violently shoots out, causing your body to twitch uncontrollably. You spit out what you can, desperately hoping not too much of it gets in your nose. Another wave comes up before you have a chance to realize it, forcing its way out. You continue to puke for what feels like whole lifetimes, until suddenly, you're finished. You spit out the last bits, trying to get out everything you can as quick as you can. It's been maybe a couple minutes, if even that. You pull yourself up to stand and flush the toilet, quickly going to rinse your mouth out in the sink as soon as you can.

Turning on the shower, you stand there for a few minutes waiting for it to heat up. You're still shaking a bit, even now. You finally step into the shower, wearily grabbing the soap and slowly rubbing yourself down. You're gonna need to drink a lot to get the lingering taste out of your mouth. You take extra care to thoroughly wash your face and arms, even though it strains what little strength you're currently able to muster up. Eventually you step out and dry yourself off. It probably wouldn't have taken that much longer if you had just stood there and let the water evaporate. You throw on your underwear and head to your bedroom to get dressed. Your dad's already inside, though you don't know when he got in. Was it quick enough for him to hear you puking? Thinking about that, you're reminded that you should probably tell him about it anyways. He won't be happy about you missing another day, but he knows that's just standard procedure. Hopefully he won't give you too much flak about it.

As you step out into the living room you see him sitting on the couch watching TV. He turns it down and speaks.

"Hey, you doing alright?" Yeah, you should just go ahead and tell him now.

"Eh, I threw up earlier, right before I was going to shower, musta been something I ate at school that just didn't sit right." He turns around to face you. After a few seconds he turns back.

"Alright, I'll give the school a call and let them know."

"Thanks." You head over to your backpack and start digging out the papers. "Also, there's some stuff for you to sign." He lets out a little sigh and responds.

"Yeah, I figured. Still don't see why they wouldn't just give me that stuff when I first went and got you enrolled." Handing him the papers, he speaks again. "You still good for dinner at the regular time?" You give it a few moments of thought. Considering that there's still a few hours before then, you'll probably be alright. Well, physically speaking. You should be capable of forcing yourself to eat by then, at least.

"Yeah." With that, he lays the papers out on the table and gets to work on them. You head back towards the computer. Hopefully you'll be able to take your mind off of all of this for just a little bit. Any relaxation you can get is very needed. Still, doesn't change the fact that you'll have to acknowledge it sooner or later. Maybe you misheard him? You already weren't in a good state of mind just seeing her coming to your house, which was only made worse by seeing him riding with her. Or maybe you heard him right but he misspoke? But if so, what could he have meant to say? Fuck. You're getting desperate. No, you're gonna ask him at dinner anyways so you should just stop thinking about it for now. With _that_ , you actually get on the computer and go back to doing what you always do.


	10. Lucky Dragon.

Time passes quicker than you'd like, and soon enough you're back off the computer and headed out to the table. With dinner ready and him waiting for you, you sit down and the two of you get to eating. You can only put it off for so long. You force yourself to speak as soon as the opportunity arises.

"So... that, uh, boar—you said she's... your boss?" Clearly noticing your doubt, he quickly responds.

"Yeah. What, you think I can just move into a new town and instantly get a managerial position?" No, of course you don't think that. Hopefully he doesn't go off on some rant from just misunderstanding you. "We aren't magic, you know. We don't come out on top from some mysterious force that wills us into it. We work hard and bust our butts to make the world go round." You got what you wanted. Well, you got confirmation, certainly not what you wanted though. No point letting him drag this on for any longer than it needs to be. You give him a half-hearted response.

"I know." He's quick to shoot back.

"Good. I'm not gonna have my boy become some entitled snob who thinks the world and everyone in it owes him something just for existing." The two of you go back to eating for some time before he starts another conversation. "You said you threw up, you think you're actually sick?" Why's he asking now?

"No, why?" Seemingly satisfied with that, he continues.

"Well, you want to go shooting tomorrow?" Go shooting? Where? When?

"Isn't that sort of expensive? Like, even out of your budget? At least, anything more than just a few minutes?" He responds soon after. Was he expecting that?

"It is. For _me_ , it's too expensive." What? What does he mean by _that_? "Luckily, someone I know offered to take you shooting. I wish I could give you that opportunity myself, but, you know how it is with stuff sometimes. I really want you to be able to learn how to shoot despite that, though." Wait, _just_ you? Not him as well? You pause, thinking for a few moments. Surely not. He isn't, is he?

"So, uh... who was it?" No. Play it cool. There's no way.

"Huh? It was my boss." There _has_ to be some way you can wiggle your way out of this. Or maybe you can make him think, or realize, really, that this is strange as fuck.

" _Your boss_ offered? How did that even come up in conversation between the two of you?" He thinks for a moment, then continues.

"Well, we just got to talking before I headed inside, I told her a bit about you, we kept talking, eventually got around to talking guns, then she just got the idea. Though she didn't say tomorrow, it might have to be this weekend. I'm still going to have to bring that part up with her and see if that works for her. I'd just rather you be able to take advantage of this as soon as possible to make sure the opportunity doesn't slip away for some reason." Oh fuck, you've gotta be quick on your feet now. Is she getting even more aggressive or is he just stupid?

"But, your boss? Don't you think that's a bit odd? Her just offering that out of the blue?" He looks to you for a couple seconds, and then responds, his voice more calm.

"Hey, look, I know you're a bit of an introvert, don't really like meeting new people all that much, but you don't have anything to worry about. She's messier than I'd like, don't tell her I said that, but she's a hard worker, she knows what she's doing, and she's good person. She's one of the only people I know well enough in this new town to trust alone with you like that." Your blood runs cold and you can only think one thing: How? How is it even possible for someone to be so completely oblivious and blind to danger? For just a moment you wonder if he's somehow in on this with her, only making feel worse. You know he'd never do that. He just... doesn't know. You have to suck it up. You can't fall apart right here. Especially not in front of him. There's really no weaseling your way out of this.

"Well, alright." She _offered_ after all. If she doesn't get you tomorrow she'll get you some other time, and she won't be as nice if she's had to deal with you slipping away. You go back to eating your dinner, now cold for the most part. After that, the two of you didn't talk any farther. As he had to use the computer, you decided to call it an early night and catch up on some rest. You're gonna need it.


	11. Point Nemo.

You wake up at the blaring of your alarm clock. Before you can even get out of bed you remember that don't have school today. Unfortunately that's not something to be happy about today. Trying your best to keep it off your mind for as long as possible, you get up and go about your morning routine as normal. After you and dad finish breakfast, he speaks.

"Good news, she said she could make it work today after all." _Good_ news. Should you really have told him after all? Whatever. You can't change it now. "She's gonna drive over here, pick us up, drop me off at work, I'll handle some of the stuff she usually does, and then the two of you can go shooting for a while." For now you just need to play along.

"Alright." The rest of the morning is fairly quiet, only the TV really making much sound when dad goes to check the news and weather. You get on the computer, not having any further preparations to make. As you check the time, you get a sudden rush of fear as you realize it's half past six, until you quickly remember that you don't have school. The next time you're brought out of your trance is when your dad comes in and tells you to get ready to head out. It's almost seven. At least you don't have to worry about any of the other kids seeing you. Wait, you're heading out _now_? You hurriedly speak up.

"Hold on, we're leaving this early?" He soon shouts back from the living room.

"This is late for me." You hear him chuckle a bit. "Yeah, I've still gotta work, remember?" You sigh. Well, may as well get it done sooner rather than later, right? You get up and head towards the door. As you put your shoes on you hear her pull up in front of your house.

It's a bit warmer this morning than the past few. You pretend to not see her wave as you walk off of the porch. As your dad hops into the passenger seat you slowly walk around back. Opening up one of the back doors, you're greeted with the exact same sight as before. You don't waste any more time and get in, sitting down in the same seat as last time. As she slowly turns the van around in your front yard, you look around the back of her van some more. In doing so you're hit with the realization that it looks the exact same as before. No guns anywhere in sight. You can't help but feel a bit disappointed in yourself. No shit, Sherlock. Why the fuck would she let you ever get hold of a gun around her? Now that you think about, would it even make a difference? You get a gun, then what? Shoot her? Everyone would hate you and think that you're just some crazy little psycho kid, even your dad. Even if you decided to tell people about it then they'd be even less likely to believe you than before. In fact, that'd probably just make everyone hate you even more. Murder someone in cold blood and then pretend you were raped as an excuse in an attempt to get off Scott-free. Murder suicide is out of the question from the get-go. What else even is there? You really don't have any real options, do you?

The drive to your dad's workplace is surprisingly long, but still over quick enough thanks to all of your thinking. He gets out, they exchange a few words, then he heads into the shop. After that, she turns back to you.

"Alright, Tristan, get up here." You do as she says. Heading out the back door you go back around up front and get inside. "Y'know you could've just climbed up here, right?" Oh, yeah, she doesn't care about that. "Actually, anytime you gotta switch between up here and back there, do that. Don't want ya runnin' off on me." She chuckles/snorts to herself a fair bit and elbows you in the ribs probably as light as she knows how, clearly pleased with her little joke. Still looking out the window, you speak.

"I thought you said the passenger seat was busted." She snorts. While looking around at the traffic for an opportunity to turn around, she responds.

"It was. Had to head into the shop early on Monday to get it replaced." At least it's comfortable. Seeing her opening, she quickly yanks the van around and starts heading down the road, back towards your house. You lean your arm up against the door and rest your head on it. After watching the trees for a bit, you close your eyes to rest. You're soon interrupted. As if knowing what you just did and wanting to make sure you don't go to sleep, she places her hand on your thigh. Suddenly her grip tightens and she forcefully drags you to the left side of the seat. You nearly fall over, having your arm no longer resting on the door. As you bring yourself to sitting upright, you notice that she hasn't taken her hand off of you. Apparently she wants to make sure you don't try to scoot back over. Then she moves her hand further up your thigh. You don't even try to raise any objections. She then gives you a firm squeeze on the crotch. Thankfully that's all she does, at least directly. She then starts slowly rubbing up and down your your inner thigh, maintaining a somewhat firm hold on you. Slowly but surely, thanks to her continuous rubbing, you start getting hard. In order to avoid painful boners, you've always angled your dick so that it would go down one of your pant legs instead of pressing directly out against your pants. Unfortunately, for no reason in particular you chose left, and now it's coming back to bite you. Soon enough it grows to the point that her regular rubbing makes her rub straight over it. As soon as she does she notices. She lets out a few snorts and changes her rubbing to be only around your dick. Every now and again she stops the rubbing to give a more than firm squeeze directly to it, causing you to gasp slightly the first time. Suddenly she stops. It's not for more than a few moments until she forces her hand under your belt and directly down your pants. Startled by the advance, you sit up very straight in your seat. She's making sure to get as much as she can in her hand, which quickly ends up being almost everything once she finds her bearings. Just as suddenly as she had entered, she yanks her hand out of your pants, bringing her hand to her face. She takes an incredibly deep breath, her hand cupped almost right against her snout. The instant she finishes she goes into a huge snorting fit. She then sticks her hand down her sweatpants and you finally turn away.


	12. Rebar.

After a bit more driving she turns down a seemingly random path into the woods. Out of the corner of your eye you see her take her hand out, wipe it down against her sweatpants, and plant it firmly onto the stick. After many twists and turns down a small dirt path the van slows to a stop and she yanks the stick into park. She taps you on the shoulder and you turn to look at her. As soon as you do she motions you into the back, pointing with her thumb. Barely letting out so much as a sigh, you climb into the back and sit yourself down right where you always do. She's quick to follow, once again shaking the van as she climbs back with you. Sitting down straight across from you just like last time, she speaks.

"Get to it." You're quick to follow her order, taking your shirt off and laying it down next to you. Soon enough you've stripped naked, sat right there in front of her with your dick flopped out in full view for her to stare at. Once again she speaks. "What'd you stop for?" What? You're already completely naked though? "You've still got more clothes to get off." It takes you a second to understand what she's saying. Hopefully she doesn't get pissed off at you legitimately just struggling to do something. As you move over to her she moves to meet you. You grab her shirt and begin trying to pull it off. While she does maneuver to help you do it, she also takes the opportunity to sniff you, making sure to snort right into your ear a few times in doing so. After you get it off she sits back down and has you toss it onto your own clothes. Next she has you take her boots off. Thankfully you don't need to untie them and are able to just slip them off. They land with quite a hefty thud as you toss them off to the side. Then she has you pull off her socks. Admittedly, they're cleaner than you expected. Must be something to do with the lack of sweat. Still, you're more than glad that she didn't make you pull them off with your teeth. After that she has you untie the hoodie from around her waist, once again taking an opportunity the moment it arises. This time as you have to get in close to reach your hands around her to get to the knot she pulls you into her and smothers you between her giant, furry tits. Your face is growing quite hot in the moment, probably just from how warm it is. You can't deny that her tits are really nice. It's a shame they're attached to someone so awful. Finished with getting it untied, you pull back, tossing it into the pile and looking back at her. A grin quickly grows across her face as she sees you blushing. Not wanting to drag this out longer than it has to be, you move on to her sweatpants. As you grab them by the legs and pull on them they don't budge an inch. You stop yourself before trying to brute force it any farther. There's no telling what she'd do to you if you ripped her pants. Especially seeing as they seem to be the only pair she owns. You move up to her waist, grabbing them tight by the elastic band and tugging backwards you manage to move them a little bit. You start wiggling them as you tug, hoping to make headway that way. You grunt in your efforts, straining yourself a fair bit. She suddenly interrupts you.

"Heh, I knew I treated you good the first time but I didn't expect you to be so desperate to get a second taste." _What_? As you pull back a bit, letting her sweatpants rest directly under her ass, you notice something. She's got her feet dug into the floor. Are you fucking kidding? This bitch is pushing herself into the seat. Red as a tomato for several different reasons now, you speak up.

"I-" But that's all you get out before she interrupts you again, this time more stern, yet still cheeky.

"Did I tell you to stop?" That shuts you up quick. You go straight back to taking off her sweatpants. Or rather, you _try_ to, only to be interrupted by her sticking her foot on your chest, stopping you from getting to her. She then pulls your chin up to make you look at her and speaks. " **Did I?** " You're quick to answer her.

"No." She lets go of your chin and puts her foot back on the floor, then speaks again.

"Exactly. If I don't tell you to stop then you _don't_ stop. Now, get back to it." And so you do. As you pull on her sweatpants they come off without issue, compared to before, at least.

With her now completely naked, she lays herself along the seats. Bringing her left leg up and resting it along the top of the seats she puts herself completely in view of you, rekindling whatever energy down there you may have lost in however long it took you to strip her. As she looks at you, you decide to take initiative. You put yourself right where she was sitting, positioned ready to get started as soon as she wants. She snort/chuckles some and then lays her head back. The leg she had resting on top of the seats suddenly digs into your back, pushing you up against her. Seems like she's ready for you. Looking down, you take your dick in hand and line it up as best you can. Slowly, you push forward, pushing past the layer of thick, damp fur and into her. She lets out a soft, drawn-out moan. She sticks her hand up at you and grasps her hand a few times. Assuming she wants you to hold her hand, you reach out to meet hers, only to be quickly yanked down into her. She gives you a swift kick in the ass to make sure you're in her every way that you can be. Thankfully you aren't capable of kissing her in this position, limiting what you're required to do. Though nothing comes without a cost. Since she can't press her snout to your mouth she presses it into the top of your head, audibly sniffing you and getting your hair a bit wet with... with whatever it is that coats her nose itself. One arm wrapped around you, rubbing up and down your back, she uses her other to move your head to one of her nipples. For a moment you consider it. No. You don't want to try to make yourself enjoy this. Any other time this would've been absolutely perfect. After a few seconds she takes your cheeks firmly in her grip, forces your mouth open, and directs you right into sucking on her tit. Right, you almost forgot. It doesn't take long for it to take effect on you. You're hard as diamonds and moaning right into her. She squeezes tight around you, and with more than just her arms. You can't help but hasten your pace. Just a few moments later she puts her legs around you and locks you into her, readily showing off just how much force she can muster in her legs. Dick utterly buried into her, you completely unload. You pull yourself deeper with your arms as best you can, your legs not having much to push off of. After several seconds you're done, but she holds you there for a solid minute before letting you pull out. As soon as you do she pulls you back down on top of her, your dick now resting right up against her and between her thighs. Breathing heavily from exhaustion and your face being put right up against her chest you have no way to avoid smelling, or inhaling, really, her incredibly strong musk. Unfortunately that isn't even the only one of your scents that she's dominating; at some point she's started purring like a damn motorbike. As much as you want to be disgusted by the smell again, you really just don't have the energy. Actually, you don't have energy to do much of anything. That completely sapped you dry. The smell alone was bad enough to try to ignore, and that was _without_ not even being able to hear yourself think. Accepting your fate, you simply close your eyes and allow yourself to rest, grabbing onto some of her fur to keep steady without even realizing you've done so.


	13. Excalibur.

Speaking of not realizing—you suddenly find yourself to have woken up from quite the deep nap. You rub your eyes and look up. She looks down back at you. Now noticing that you've woken up, her grip around you tightens and she drags you up so that your head is close enough to hers. She nuzzles your face, her tusk scraping lightly at your face as she does so. After she's had her fill, she softly speaks into your ear.

"You like the bed?" You don't bother to respond. She begins to rub your head. "Heh, well, I enjoyed the blanket." The two of you rest there for a little while longer. Every now and again she'll nuzzle the side of your head or smooch you on the cheek. Eventually she pats you on the back and speaks. "Well, I know you'd love to stay here with how comfortable I am, can't say I blame you, but you and I both have things we've gotta do today. So, let's get to it." It's better to just pretend she doesn't even say the jokes. At least you finally get to go home and get some real time off. Dragging herself out from under you, she gets up, as much as she can in the back of the van. You slowly pull yourself upright, sitting like normal in the seat. You sit there for a couple of seconds, then yawning for a few more. Once finished with that, you see her sitting across from you. She's holding your underwear in her hand. Not doing anything with it, just holding it. Then she motions you over to her. You quickly oblige. No point in keeping her waiting. As you move over to her, she speaks. "Pick up you leg." What? You respond, making her aware of your confusion.

"Huh?" Once again, she's less than pleased with your stupidity. Thankfully this time it's more facepalm and less legitimate anger. Regardless, you do as she says. She's quick to let you know she approves of your obedience.

"Well at least you learned to listen." She slips your underwear part way up your calf, then speaking again. "Other leg." This time she swiftly yanks your underwear all the way up as soon as she gets your other leg through the opposite side. Opportunist that she is, as soon as her hands are near your waist she firmly gropes your ass. You just barely manage to not gasp from surprise. Hopefully that doesn't just mean you're getting used to this. Still, why is she bothering to dress you? You speak up.

"Why ar-" While grabbing your socks, she interrupts you.

"Don't worry, you'll get your turn soon enough. Foot." You raise your foot slightly and she slips your sock on. She dramatically pulls it up as far it can go, though still not putting it in danger of being torn. As though it's some feat that takes all the strength in her body, she pulls herself forward and digs her muzzle as deep into your crotch as she can get it. With her tusks digging into your thighs and your dick squished up against her nose, she takes several deep breaths along with a flurry of little sniffs to finish it off. After that, she grabs her shirt and wipes her face off with it, trying to hold back snorts the whole time.

After that she dresses you mostly normally, even putting your shoes on for you. Then she tosses her sweatpants right in your face. At least it made catching them easy. Thankfully she doesn't make putting them back on as hard as she made taking them off. She makes you grab the rest yourself. As you reach around her to tie her hoodie back onto her waist she embraces you. Not like anything else she's done. Just a simple, straightforward hug from her. She keeps her snorting to a minimum and just lets you tie it back onto her. Despite, or perhaps _because of_ , that, you avert your gaze as you get the rest of her dressed. This doesn't last long, however, as she gently takes your hands in hers and speaks.

"Kiss." You stop yourself from sighing and proceed to give her a somewhat drawn-out kiss right on the snout, the two of you closing your eyes briefly. At least you're finally done for today. You sit down in one of the back seats to wait until she's ready to drive you back home. Rather than going back up to the front seat, she instead crouches down right behind it. She wrestles her arm under the row of seats opposite you and begins to pull something out. It takes a moment for you to see it due to her blocking your sight of it for a while. She has to awkwardly pull it up in between the front seats to get it out. After a few seconds of doubting yourself you finally see what it really is: a shotgun. Much longer than what you'd've ever expected out of a shotgun, but a shotgun nonetheless. A faded black pump-action shotgun, along with a pretty heft box of shells for it. But... why? You decide to ask her.

"Uh, what's that for?" She gives you a look of disbelief, cocking an eyebrow at you. Then she responds.

"Huh? Whadd'ya mean what's it for? It's for shooting." That doesn't exactly answer your question.

"Obviously, but why? I mean, why are you getting it out?" She chuckles a bit, no snorting this time. After a few seconds she speaks again.

"Oh, you're really serious? Well I said I was gunna take you shooting now didn't I?" Wait, she wasn't just lying? _Really_? As if reading your mind, she continues. "What, you think I'm a liar or something?" Oh shit. You don't waste any time trying to come up with a response.

"N-no, I just... it's just that-" She doesn't even interrupt you this time. You're just fumbling at this point. It takes you a couple of seconds to continue. "I just thought that maybe it fell through. Y'know, like since you didn't initially plan on doing it today. Or maybe I slept too long and now we just didn't have time or something." Turning back around she shakes her head a little bit, chuckling to herself some more, this time bringing the snorting back.


	14. Sisyphus.

She takes the gun and ammo and hops out the back of the van with it. She doesn't get far before she turns around and and yells back to you.

"C'mon, don't keep me waiting. Get out here." You quickly follow suit, getting out and following close behind her. The two of you walk for a bit through the woods until you arrive at a clearing. It's quite long but not too wide. There's a couple of tables set up near your end, with a handful of cans at the other. As she sets the gun and the box of ammo down she looks back to you. After just a second she facepalms herself and speaks. "Ah, damn." And... that's all, apparently. She rubs her chin for a few seconds and speaks again, kind of. "Nah." Then she walks straight over to you and just picks you up over her shoulder. You ask what this could possibly be for.

"Wha-" Then she lets out a grunt and then sprints off, entirely interrupting you as you grab onto her in attempt to not fall off. She must've noticed this, as her grip around your body tightens, causing you to let out a grunt of your own. What feels like just as soon as she picked you up, she's plopped you down right behind the van. As you try to regain your footing she's soon in and out of the back of the van, with a bag and a command.

"Take this." She shoves it into you and you immediately follow, grabbing hold of it. It's a duffle bag that feels like it weighs at least half as much as you do, if not more. It's noisy as all hell too. She speaks, though seemingly more to herself this time. "May as well grab some more anyways." She again ducks in and out of the van, this time with two more big boxes of ammo in hand. Slamming the door shut she gives you another order. "Alright, _now_ let's get going." You follow behind her through the woods once again. You frequently shift the duffle bag around, trying both to not drop it as well not seem like your diet consists entirely of donuts. She stops and turns around, sticking out her hand and speaking to you again. "Hand it here." Must not have done a very good job. Regardless, you're quick to offload it onto her, not caring much for the impromptu workout. As soon as she grabs it she whips it around and over her shoulder. She then shoves the two boxes of ammo into your chest. Seems like you aren't getting off that easy. They're better, at least, even if not by much.

You place the boxes onto one of the tables, putting most of your effort into making sure you don't crush your fingers. She takes the bag to the opposite end and gently lays it down. She then waves you over. Just to make sure she knows you aren't ignoring her you yell out in response.

"Coming!" As you jog over to her she picks some wooden thing up off the ground and stands it up straight. Once she sees you've gotten over she speaks.

"Alright, just line some bottles up on the stand and some scattered around on the ground." You get straight to work and she heads back to the other end. After constantly going back and forth between the bag and and a bunch of different spots you've worked up a bit of a sweat. Once you finish she waves you back over to her. As you approach her she sticks her fist out and speaks. “Here. Make sure to get them in tight. You won't want them falling out.” You put your hands up and she drops a small pair of earplugs to you. She tosses a pair of headphones over her own ears and steps out in front of you. She whips the gun up to her shoulder, firing after a second or two. One of the bottles explodes into a mist of fine glass shards. It's actually not as loud as you expected it to be, surprisingly enough. She motions you up in front of her and shoves the gun to you, not letting go of it until she's brought herself directly behind you.

Well, it doesn't exactly seem like she just wants you to stand there with it. You look back to her. She wordlessly gives a slight nod forward. As you bring it up to your shoulder you feel its full weight, already tiring your arm. You try your best to steady it and line up a shot on one of the bottles. Pulling the trigger, you're instantly sent recoiling back. You see a brown puff as she catches you. Probably would've fallen flat on your ass if she weren't there. She stands you up straight and then pushes you forward with her hand on your shoulder. As you step forward, however, she tugs you back by the collar and speaks.

“ _Lean_ forward.” She steps alongside you and puts her other hand on your belt buckle. Again, she pushes you forward by the shoulder, but keeps you in place at the hip. She forces your left foot forward with her own. Now having you in seemingly the position she wants, she puts herself behind you once more. Once again, you bring it back up to your shoulder, aiming at another bottle. Pulling the trigger once more... nothing happens? Oh, right. You pull the pump back, having to put in a fair bit of effort to actually get another shell in. Third time's the charm. Ready, aim, fire. Or not. Another clear whiff, probably a good few inches off target. This repeats for four more shots. Isn't it supposed to be easy to hit stuff with a shotgun? What gives? There's no way you're _this_ bad, right?

You flip it over and shove in six more shells. Thankfully she doesn't feel the need to step in for that. You look back to her again, just to make sure she's fine with you continuing to waste her ammo. Again, she simply nods you on. And again, six more whiffs. Not even grazing a single bottle. She takes it, loads a single shell, and fires it once more. Another bottle instantly vaporizes. She looks back to you, chuckles a bit, and then speaks.

“Well, we've got plenty of time and ammo.” She hands it back to you and just a few seconds later you're both back in position.

You've completely lost track of how many times you've fired. Your arm is incredibly tired. Your shoulder is super sore. Even though it's not that loud there's still a slight ring in your ears now. The ground beside you is littered with casings. You desperately want to give up. Why continue? You've basically proven you can't fire a gun. At this point it's just completely pointless. Despite that, you know you can't. She hasn't stopped you. That means you just keep going until she does. But couldn't she at least let you rest for a bit? At this rate you won't even be able to pick up a fork to eat dinner. Fuck it. May as well just ask her.

“Hey, could I take a break for a bit?” After several seconds of just standing there you almost assume she's just giving you your answer silently. However, soon enough she takes the gun from you. She sits down at one of the tables, laying the gun down on it. She's sat facing you, her arms resting on top of the table itself. Motioning for you to take the earplugs out, you following suit, she speaks.

“Fine. Sit down.” She pats her lap as she says so. Of course, nothing's free after all. You sigh, walking over to her. It won't be that bad, not after what she's already put you through. You do really need to take a break after all. You sit down on her lap, her pulling you into her as soon as you do so. With her arms wrapped lightly around your stomach she gently nuzzles your face from behind. If you waste energy on trying to resist her you'll come out of this no better than if you hadn't taken a break at all. You simply lie there and let yourself sink into her.

Even though you didn't fall asleep, the two of you sat there for quite some time. In spite of her soft purring, she still forces you onto your feet. Handing the gun back to you, she speaks.

“Alright, nap time's over.” With the two of you now in position again, you get back to your labor. Unfortunately, the rest doesn't seem to have done much for your aim. You still whiff who knows how many shots, quickly beginning to tire yourself out once more. You can't take another break. You need to get this done. Preferably _with_ hitting something at least once. You finally decide to aim for one of the bottles on the stand. You bring the gun up to your shoulder and steady yourself. You calm your breath and slow the movement of the gun as best you can. You pull the trigger. This time no puffs of dirt flying into the air. Also no exploded bottle. You whiffed completely, again, sending the shot deep into the woods instead of the dirt this time. Fuck's sake. You go back to just tossing them out there, hoping one will eventually hit. Out of nowhere a bottle explodes. You were barely even paying attention. You finally landed a shot. Your first hit and you basically missed it. Suddenly she yells out from behind you, startling you slightly.

“It's about damn time, Tristan! Only took you, what, eighty-three shots?” No. Really? _Really_? Eighty-fucking-three shots to your first hit? Are you fucking serious? She's gotta be joking. You let her know you think as much.

“You're kidding, right? There's no way it took _that_ many for me to hit something, right?” She chuckle/snorts to herself before responding.

“Oh, no, you hit plenty of stuff. Loads of trees, rocks, bugs. Just took you that many to hit a bottle.” She chuckles some more to herself, patting you on the back a few times. You don't even know what to think. You can barely muster the energy to bring the gun back up to your shoulder.


	15. Desserted island.

She gives you a little kiss and you step out of the van. Before you close the door, she speaks.

“Welp, I gotta head back to work, sorry. See ya again soon, alright?” You just give her a little nod and head inside, her not driving off until you've shut the door behind you. You decide to hop into the shower. Hopefully that'll keep you awake for a bit. Even just dragging the soap along your body is a near-Herculean task after all of that. You're gonna be sore for _days_. After finishing, you let yourself passively dry off with a towel wrapped around you. Before you've realized it, you're mostly dry. You manage to get yourself dressed and head out to the living room. May as well watch TV so that you can rest on the couch.

You jolt awake at the front door opening. Turning around you see just your dad. Handing him the remote, you get up and go to the computer. You should be able to stay awake for the rest of the day enough for that. Soon enough you head out to have dinner, not quite as lucid as you figured you'd be. After a bit of eating, your dad speaks up.

“I've got some more bad news.” You glance up at him. Shit, what could this be? “I'm gonna have to head back up for some court stuff. I'll be gone for a few days.” Fuck. Well, that's not _that_ bad. What could she do to you now that she couldn't before? You respond simply.

“Alright.” After a few seconds he responds.

“I'll have to leave Thursday while you're at school so that I can get a rental since the car's shot.” It doesn't strike you as anything strange for several moments. You suddenly look back up at him, eyebrows raised, and speak.

“Wait, _Thursday_? You mean _Tomorrow_?” Without missing a beat, he continues.

“Yep. I know it sucks, me having to ditch you for a while the week you start school, but unfortunately that's just the way things are sometimes. Can't exactly tell them I need to reschedule, just gotta make it work.” After that, the two of you finished dinner without further conversation.

You head to sleep, quickly sinking into your bed. Just as soon as you do you're waking up at the sudden sound of your alarm. You were really out quick, huh? As you go to turn it off you're forced to face just _how_ sore you really are. Your entire shoulder is in a constant pain. Getting dressed is no better. Your left arm feels like jelly. Oh well. You've only got so many sick days you can use. You push forward through your regular morning routine to breakfast. It's quite quiet this morning, and soon enough your dad's headed out the door. He gives you a hug before he leaves. Oh, right, this is the least time you'll be seeing him for a few days. Hopefully the quality of your diet doesn't tank too hard. After checking the weather you're headed out to school not too long after he left. Soon enough the deer guy's alongside you, ready to talk your head off again.

After explaining to him a million times that you only threw up _and_ that you really do normally come to school most days, you're already at the bus stop. Thankfully the others aren't anywhere near as interested. The coyote girl just gives you a quick ask about how you're doing and leaves it at that. The bus ride is also uneventful, letting you catch up on even more rest that you didn't know you needed. Probably shouldn't have slept on your sore arm though, that's not gonna help it any.

You groggily make your way through the halls and to class, paying little attention to the other kids. After a short conversation with your teacher and reassuring her that you _do_ normally attend school most days, the rest of class goes by without issue. Just the same as always—filling out papers for hours on end with little to no tangible value to be gained. Thankfully the teachers here seem to be good at their jobs, with them making the time between papers fairly interesting. It can only be _so_ good though. Unfortunately even history is still quite boring thanks to it focusing on the far past of vague tribes and potential kingdoms that may have possibly existed. Gonna have to wait until next year before anything good. At least you're able to make the thoughts of your own mind interesting, making time not crawl along at a snail's pace.

Soon enough you're headed to lunch. Speaking of—what are you going to eat for dinner? You won't have anyone to cook for you, but you still can't make pretty much anything yourself. Maybe just snack? He'll only be gone for a couple days. You could probably make that work. Maybe just get something delivered? You do have a bit of money. You're thoughts are interrupted by an incessant yet light whapping at your ankles. Looking down you see that it's someone's tail. Really shouldn't be too surprised by that. Following it up you see it's actually the rat directly in front of you in line. You tap her on the shoulder to ask her to control it better.

“Hey, could you... stop that?” Wait, is that offensive? Ah fuck, hopefully she's not about to go crying to a teacher. As she turns around you see that it's the same rat girl from Tuesday. She shrinks back and clasps her hands together as she speaks.

“Oh, Tristan! I'm so sorry! I just sort of forget about it sometimes.” That's a relief. Just as you go to tell her to not worry about it she continues. “I really wasn't trying to annoy you. I just...” Poor girl. You're quick to try to ease her anxiety.

“Eh, it's alright. It happens sometimes.” Just moments later she replies.

“Oh good.”

As you get your food and leave the line you notice that the rat girl is waiting right outside the door. She couldn't have been waiting for very long, but still. Why wait at all? As you go to sit down, she stops you.

“Oh, uh... y-you can sit with me... if you want.” Looking back to the cafeteria you see no shortage of seating. Strange, but whatever. Don't really have any reason _not_ to.

“Sure.” She lets out a little squeak and rushes off to sit down. You follow behind her. Must be slower than she'd like as she stops a couple of times and looks back to make sure you haven't wandered off or gotten lost. She sits down at a table almost completely full of other rats. Seems like Tuesday was an outlier. Hopefully they won't try to make conversation too much. Sitting down left of her you see very few actual trays of food on the table. Plenty of books and papers though. You may as well be in the library. Looking up from the table you see damn-near all of them staring right at you. As soon as you look at them, however, they look back down to their work. Surprisingly, the rat girl is the one to break the silence.

“So, uh... this is Tristan.” Yeesh. It's like awkwardly meeting a girl's parents for the first time trying to get their approval. Not even knowing _what_ to say, you just stay silent.

After several tense seconds, the rat girl opposite the first rat girl speaks.

“Beth...” She's soon interrupted by the rat girl on your left.

“Oh, don't be like that Beck.” Seems like this one's on your side. Wait, since when were there sides here? There's a quick response from the second rat girl.

“Come on, Bri, you know I'm right.” Right about what, exactly? Before you can do much more thinking, the rat girl to your left speaks up again.

“Beck, don't “come on” me, you're just paranoid.” You forcefully exhale, grinning slightly. _Immediately_ the second rat girl shoots back.

“ _See_?” The one on your left huffs and thinks to herself for a bit. At least they've given you plenty of time to eat. Eventually she responds.

“Look, Beck, just give him a chance. You really think Beth would talk to some feces-flinging monkey-man, let alone bring him here?” Ohhhh, now you get it. It takes a few seconds for the second rat girl to offer a response.

“Well, no, but-” The one on your left soon interrupts her.

“ _See_?” As she grins to herself the second one huffs. Apparently defeated, she speaks.

“Fine.” And that's that. Aside from small introductions there's little to no conversation. Only shuffling of papers and books, with the odd question and answer going between themselves.


	16. Blitzkrieg.

After a while lunch is over and you head to your next class. The rat girl follows you for a little bit, apparently trying to make up for conversation she wasn't able to get in during lunch. It's nothing major, the two of you just walking and talking until you've gotta split ways. Paying attention to little else, she stumbles her way alongside you, every now and again almost tripping over herself. In her bumbling around she eventually bumps into someone, nearly knocking her glasses off. They're quick to react.

“Watch it, ya little _rat_.” A large hyena stands over her, snarling. You can just barely tell that she's a female. There's a few others, but they seem to be sticking to themselves. She shrinks back towards you, but tries to offer a passing apology regardless.

“S-s-sorry, I-I j-j-j-just-” The hyena suddenly interrupts her.

“” _Oh, wuh, uh, I I I just just_ ” Just shut it, and get out of the way.” What? There's seriously people that act like this? Fucking hell. You step in.

“The fuck's your problem?” Looking to you, the hyena snarls once more and speaks.

“What, you mad I'm not worshiping the ground your girlfriend walks on, monkey boy?” The hyena steps forward and shoves you. With the rat girl having gotten completely behind you at some point, she stops you from going too far. Seems like it still took her a fair amount of effort to stop you. You step forward and square up. Some of the other hyenas are laughing to themselves a bit. Just as you go to speak, both of you are forcefully shoved away from one another by a large black bear. He wastes no time in barking out some orders.

“Hey, both of you get moving!” You step away and get back to walking to class. The rat girl stays close to you as long as she can, only leaving once you have to actually head into class.

Thankfully class in uneventful, giving you a chance to calm down some. Thinking back on it that dude probably saved your ass. There had to be at least like half a dozen other hyenas there. They definitely would've gotten in on it—just the concept of a fair fight may as well be completely alien to them. But if you're being honest with yourself, you would've been fucked even if they somehow did decide to fight fair this time. That one hyena had to be a bit over six feet, at least. Your thoughts are interrupted as your teacher calls your name. As you look up you see him on the phone. Upon doing so he speaks just one word.

“Office.” Ah shit. Hopefully you'll get off with a warning for whatever bullshit they decide you did wrong. He speaks back into the phone and you make your way out of class. After stopping for water and to use the bathroom you finally get yourself into the office.

It's fairly empty, only a few people on the other side and no one else out up front with you. After several seconds of waiting at the front desk, another person steps out. You can just barely see over the desk enough to see that it's a small fennec. The fennec comes over towards the side of the front desk and swings open the half door. As you look down you can only think one thing: _wow_. Well at least it's easy to tell she's a woman. She looks up to you and speaks the moment she makes eye contact.

“Tristan. Right this way.” She turns around and begins making her way back through the labyrinthine passages between all of the desks, walls, and other random things scattered about the room. You try your best to keep up with her, managing to catch up right as she opens a door. She motions you in and to the chair in front of the large wooden desk. It's solid mahogany with a glossy finish and was clearly crafted by quite the expert. Your gawking is cut short by her speaking up. “Tristan. I understand you had a verbal confrontation with another student. Is this true?” While you aren't surprised that that's what this is about, you can't say weren't hoping for something else.

“Yes.” She shuffles around some papers and writes something down before continuing.

“I see. Is it also true that you used profane language?” After thinking for a few seconds you respond.

“Yeah, why?” She writes down some more.

“I take it you felt as though you simply couldn't be bothered to read over our code of conduct?” Fucks sake, really?

“No, I did.” She's soon to shoot back.

“Then you must have decided that you felt it acceptable to simply ignore them?” What kind of high school gives a shit about the rules on swearing?

“No.” She cocks an eyebrow at you.

“Then why exactly is it that you decided to break the rules?” You fail to offer any response. This prompts her to reach back into a cabinet and pull out a little booklet. She hands it to you over the desk, as much as she can anyways, and speaks. “Here. I'd like you to read through this for me. Out loud whenever you get to the _Code of Conduct_ section.” What, right now? Looking back to her you see her patiently waiting in her overly large leather chair. Suppose so.

You spend what feels like hours digging through it until you finally get to it. You look up to her again, seeing that she's been going through papers for some time. As she notices you looking at her, she speaks.

“I take it you've reached it?” You muster up a response.

“Yes.” You begin reading, out loud, the entire section on acceptable and expected behavior and punishments for breaking them. You eventually get down to the one that applies to you.

“Swearing, cursing, profanity, or improper language: one period of detention.” She stops you before you read any farther.

“Yes. After school today. That is all. You may now head back to class.” Damn, she _really_ had you do all of that shit just to tell you you got detention. As you get out of your chair to leave, she interrupts you. “Oh, and one other thing, Tristan: Learn some self-control and discipline.” With that, you're finally allowed to leave.

The rest of the day is fairly uneventful, letting you get to what _would_ be time to go home were it for the school being such hard asses about the rules. As you make your way to detention instead of the bus, you run into the rat girl again. She gives you much undue thanks for before, then quickly heads off to not miss the bus. Finally getting to the classroom, you see only a few other students in it. You don't recognize any of them. You take a seat at a random desk and use your backpack as a pillow. Surprisingly no one interrupts you, letting you just drift off into sleep. Well, you certainly aren't going to complain.

You're jolted awake by someone nudging you on the shoulder. Your initial thought is that you just got caught and aren't actually allowed to just sleep through detention. It certainly feels like it's only been a few minutes. However, as you look at the clock you notice two full hours have up and vanished. You try to respond to him, only managing a grumble that sounds like you're way too hungover. Making sure to bring your backpack with you, you head out to the bus to _now_ head home. Dad sure isn't gonna be happy. Well, at least you don't have to face that for a few days.

The ride home is uneventful, though not being dead tired you _are_ able to enjoy the scenery along the way. It's a bit remote, but still much better to look at than just random stores, apartments, sidewalks, and other such things that were all packed together in the city. It also helps to not have to worry about sleeping through your own bus stop. Speaking of—as the bus slows to a halt, you grab your stuff and head off. For once you get to just walk home alone and enjoy some time outside to yourself. You hear the bus start up and head off down the road. At least you're finally about home. You hear a sudden rustling behind you in the woods. Before you can even fully turn around it's moved right behind you on the road. As you do spin around, however, you freeze. It's a bunch of hyenas. Turning back around again you see more have come up on your other side, now completely surrounding you. Then the big one steps forward and makes herself known. Same bitch as earlier. Fuck.

“Eyyyyy, monkey boy, wasn't expecting to see you out here.”


	17. Featherless biped.

You feel a bead of sweat drip down your side. She continues.

“What happened to the rat? You ditch her already? Lemme guess, you don't like to keep one for more than a day?” You desperately try to not seem cornered while racking your brain for any way to escape this. Not looking away from her, you try to take note of the others that you can see. Even the smallest one is around your size, being generous in your own favor. There's probably over a dozen including the ones you can't see. You can't bolt, they'd catch you before you could get away at all. Even if it was just her she could easily outrun you and hunt you down. There's definitely no way you're fighting all of them. Or, again, even just her. Guess you'll just have to bargain for your safety.

“Hey, look, I came across more aggressive than I meant to be. I just didn't think you'd take it so hard.” She steps forward and shoves you back.

“Course you didn't. You think you can just treat me however the fuck you want cause you think you're king of the hill.” She steps closer again. Oh fuck. Just try gotta try to make her feel like she's gotten what she wanted.

“No, that's not what I think, I just-” She then pushes you back again. The hyena behind you gives you a light push back towards her.

“You're _just_ acting like a bitch now that you don't got your fucking goons around to sic on me if I start acting a way that you don't like.” Some of the other hyenas are laughing intermittently. They've closed in on the two of you. At this point even if they didn't try to stop you from running you'd still have to crawl between their legs just to get out.

“I _really_ didn't mean to come across that way. Look, you can have whatever you want-” She interrupts you, a half snarl, half smile growing across her face.

“Good.” Alright, that's good. You've only got your shitty little phone and like thirty or forty bucks. She gives you a smaller shove and continues. “You're a monkey, so you'd better start acting like it. Right now.” What? Wait... **Oh**. _That_ 's what she means. You know what? Fuck this bitch. She acts like a complete piece of shit and then expects you to apologize for not putting up with it? Fuck that. You barely even think before giving her a response.

“Nah, fuck you. Don't you got some other hyena to be forcing to suck your dick or something?” You're caught by a couple of the hyenas as you're sent reeling. You manage to hang onto your consciousness, though only getting an earful of all of the hyenas howling with laughter. It's not quite the same as before. It's almost more of a scream with laughter in it. All of it is completely interrupted and you snapped back awake as she screams into your face.

“ **I don't have a FUCKING dick!** ” She punches you again. This time the others opt not to catch you. You barely manage to stay on your feet. That's soon cut short by her kicking you right in the stomach, sending you hard into the dirt. She wastes no time rushing over to continue, this time her foot connecting directly to your face as you try to get up.

The others soon join in. They don't get too many kicks into you face, thanks almost entirely to your knees. You've completely seized up, but they continue. For some reason the kicks to your head don't feel as bad as the ones to your back. Maybe it's just because of the sheer numbers difference. You hear a rumbling off in the distance. You have no clue how you're still conscious. It grows louder. You'd really rather not be. A door slams. You try to ignore all of the distractions so that you can sleep. There's an incomprehensible screaming that dominates all else. Your dad should really file a noise complaint. Then gunshots.

You're snapped back into lucidity. Gunshots? You pry your legs from your chest to see the hyenas scattering off down the road. All but one. She's soon yanked off her feet, grabbed by the muzzle with a hand ready to snap it clean in two. The barrel of a gun digs into her neck. A dinky little revolver. The RG10. Rolling onto your back you see the boar. The gun would be better for your hearing than her screaming. You can't see her face, but the eyes of the hyena tell you all you need to know. It's enough to give a drill sergeant nightmares. Suddenly she throws the hyena to the ground, somehow managing to land a kick deep into her ribs before she actually even reaches the ground. The hyena tries her best to sprint off to catch up with the others. She only manages to go so quick while hunched over and holding her side.

Suddenly, the boar has positioned herself on top of you. She grabs you by the chin, gently, yet more firm than she's ever been. Your blood runs cold as you make eye contact with her. Thankfully, she instantly interrupts your train of thought.

“Are you alright?” You manage to nod to her.

“Y-yeah. Just got a bit roughed up.” She then moves herself to your side, soon slipping her arms underneath you. She hefts you with ease, but is still slow to do so. She makes her way around the back of her van, holding you very steady the whole time. She pops open the back door and works her way in. The van sinks a good inch or so as the whole weight of the two of you is forced through just its back wheels. She softly lays you down along the seats and kneels beside you. She places her hand on your head and presses her snout to your cheek. After a few seconds she moves back, looks you in the eye, and speaks.

“Are you _really_ alright? Should I take you to the hospital?” You place your hand on her shoulder.

“Yes. I'm fine. I just need to rest. Besides, the hospital is probably so far away that just the drive there would make it not worth doing.” Giving you a few light rubs, she thinks to herself for a few moments. She then climbs up front and starts the van.

The drive is made longer than it really should've been from her slow driving, but soon enough you're outside your house. She interrupts you the moment you try to get up.

“ **No**.” Climbing into the back, she once again picks you up. She gently carries you up to the front porch, stopped short of entering by the door. You dig the keys out of your pocket and awkwardly hand them over to her. Unlocking the door, she pushes it open with her foot and steps inside. “Sorry about the carpet.” What? Looking around, she opts simply to lay you down on the couch. She heads back and shuts the door, locking it with the handle, the deadbolt, and the chain. As she walks back you lose sight of her behind the couch. After a few moments you hear the kitchen cabinets opening and closing several times. Eventually the sink turning on for a bit followed by the fridge being opened. You decide to just let her be. It isn't worth the effort to even ask right now.

She taps you on the shoulder.

“Here.” Opening your eyes, you see her standing over you holding a small towel. There's something on top of it, but you can't see what. Just as you're about to ask her about it she moves to place it on you face. It's quite cold. Just a bag of ice, it seems. She sits down across from you, squeezing herself between your feet and the armrest. You aren't able to see her, but it doesn't seem like she's moving much now. At least she's just letting you lie down and actually rest. Unfortunately, your mind isn't able to rest as easily.

“Hey. Did you...” Is this even something you want to know the answer to? “Did you shoot any of them?” No. It's better that you know no matter what the answer than to stay blissfully ignorant. It takes her several seconds to respond.

“No.” You aren't able to feel relieved quite yet as she continues before you can. “But I should have.”

“What do you mean?” It's probably for the best that you don't see whatever look she has on her face.

“Well I can't just go out and hunt em down. I shoulda shot them when I could have. You know damn well they deserved it.” You go to prop yourself up and take the bag off your face to look at her. Unsurprisingly, you're cut short. “ **Lay down**.” You know better than to test her.

You're awakened by an overly energetic ad suddenly coming on on the TV. Stretching out, you can feel that the boar woman isn't there anymore. You lay the bag of ice down onto the coffee table. It's mostly water now. As you sit upright you notice that she hasn't actually left. Instead, she now stands in the kitchen, her back to you. From the way she moves you can tell that she's making something. You don't know exactly what though. There's not any smell that you can make out. As you stand, she turns around.

“What're you getting up for?” It takes you a moment to work up a response.

“Bathroom.” She doesn't seem terribly pleased.

“Fine. But I don't want you moving around any more than necessary.” You make your way around the couch.

“Alright.” She turns back to whatever it is she was doing and you head down the hall. Once in the bathroom you have to take hold of the counter just to be able to sit on the toilet without letting yourself drop onto it like a rock. Maybe it would've been worth the effort to stay standing. At least then you'd basically only have to worry about your zipper. Fuck. How are you even gonna shower, let alone go to school tomorrow? It's pretty much only gotten more painful as the day has gone on. Whatever, you'll burn that bridge when you get to it.

You get back into the living room and head towards the couch. You're stopped short as she turns around once again.

“Table. It'll be done soon.” You head towards the table. True to her word, shortly after sitting down, she brings two plates over to the table. Both with plenty of mashed potatoes, scrambled eggs, and hash browns. Odd, but you won't turn down breakfast for dinner. It certainly looks a lot better than you expected from her. It tastes better too. Probably just you being hungry though. As you make your way through your plate bit by bit she shovels hers into her mouth like she hasn't eaten in days. It's a miracle that she's managing to stay clean while doing it. Or rather, not get any _more_ dirty than is the norm for her. Speaking of miracles—you think back to earlier. It was incredibly lucky for you that she showed up when she did. There's no telling how much more they would've done if it weren't for her. Even if they stopped at the same time you'd still be by yourself out in the middle of nowhere, forced to limp your way back home. It's absurd to think of being grateful for anything she's done, but she really did probably...

“Why were you coming over here anyways?” Most people would take a moment to finish chewing their food, maybe wipe their face with a napkin just in case. Her? It's more like turning off a vacuum cleaner.

“Your dad asked me to check up on you after school today and tomorrow.” _School_. Right. That's gonna be a bitch.

“How'd you know I was coming home late, though?”

“Didn't. I just came straight here after getting off work.” Ah, that makes more sense. Less miracle, more just happy coincidence. Guess the one you should really be thankful to is that fennec lady. Makes sense. Not like the boar's really done anything for you. You pause for a moment. You shouldn't feel bad about thinking that. Her just making dinner doesn't count for shit. Not after what she did. Besides, you probably wouldn't have even had to deal with all of this shit if it weren't for her. Thinking on the matter for a bit longer, you decide the best course of action is to stop thinking about it and leave it at that.

Finishing up with the dishes, she comes back to the table. Rather than sitting down, or better yet leaving, she instead comes around to you. She hooks her arms under your legs and behind your back, hoisting you up. No point speaking up about it now. She's probably just taking you back to the couch anyways, or maybe to your bed. Wait... she wouldn't, would she? Right now? Her turning down the hallway rather than continuing to the living room doesn't help your concerns.

“Uh, are you—“

“This the bathroom?” She says, motioning to the door now right across from your feet. That's... probably a relief?

“Yeah.” She wrangles the door open, your legs getting in the way, and takes you in. She gently sets you down on the toilet and tugs your shirt up. You lift your arms up to help her speed along the process. But why's she doing this? She wiggles your pants off, taking your socks with them when she gets them down to your ankles. Finally she gets your underwear off, you now sat naked with your ass against the cold top of the toilet seat. She quickly undresses herself, stripping faster than a tablecloth. Is that why she wears all of that stuff in particular? So that she can strip at a moment's notice? For some reason it doesn't really seem like she's doing it for sex this time. Though _you_ on the other hand still have to make a plenty strong effort to fight back some involuntary responses of your own.

Turning on the shower, she looks back to you. She snorts to herself lightly, a small grin growing across her face.

“Sorry, not this time. Glad to see you ain't lost interest yet though.” Dammit. Why's it gotta be so damn to just control your own dick? She leans over to check the water, this time deliberately stretching herself out. You look away, but too late to not get more than an eyeful. You still saw enough to paint a picture that is undeniably a guilty pleasure. From her powerful thighs, up to that ass that can make a boob-man doubt himself, to her slightly pudgy belly, and finally, her chest. There's really no words for it. Only with them hanging straight down thanks to her being leaned over do you finally get an understanding of their true size. You want to stop thinking about it all, but you just can't. Looking away really didn't do you any good. Her body is absolutely incredible. There's no getting around it. Why? Fucking _why_ did it have to be _her_ body? Is this the sexual equivalent of evil men living longer and getting richer than good men? It has to be.

You're startled slightly as she grabs you by the armpits. Looking down at you, she stops just short of actually lifting you up.

“Man, you _really_ just can't resist me, can you?” You say nothing, waiting for her to continue with picking you up. “I asked you a question, _Tristan_.” Really? She's gonna choose _now_ to forego the rhetorical questions? There's really no disobeying her, especially not in this state.

“N-no.”

“No _what_?” Oh _come on_. You really were right before. Sighing, you try to just give her what she wants.

“No, I can't resist you.” She plants her muzzle on your face for a second before moving you to the bathtub. Luckily she more just assists you in, rather than completely picks you up. She sits you down and grabs the shower head. Moving back behind you, she closes the curtain and sits down. She's not really able to get her legs anywhere, as made evident by her poking and prodding you with her feet as she tries to move them around the sides of you. After a few seconds of waiting, she pulls you back into her lap and stretches her legs out under you in one large motion. Despite that, her legs are arched as she still can't fit herself into the tub properly. Apparently the awkward positioning the two of you are in right now is adequate to her.

She moves the shower head around your head and works her fingers through your hair. After getting you completely drenched she starts with the shampoo. She lets the shower head hang down and rest against your legs so that she can work on your head with both of her hands. It's incredibly surprising that you aren't halfway going into shock from pain. Maybe your head just didn't take that much of a beating. Eventually she rinses off your head and moves on to the rest of your body. Your shoulders are sore again, but it actually feels nice to have her cleaning them. Almost like a massage. Unfortunately, that's soon cut short as she moves down to your back. You lurch forward in pain, her quickly placing her hand back on your shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” There's a few seconds of nothing but the shower running. “Could- could I just... do it myself?” It's worth at least asking. To your pleasant surprise, she puts the soap in your hand and just leans against the back of the tub. To your unpleasant surprise, you're still racked with pain as you try to wash your back yourself. Not really being able to lurch forward any farther, you freeze for a bit. Eventually you manage to continue, groaning through your washing. Apparently tolerating no more, she sits back upright and takes the soap from you. Thankfully she just skips the rest of your back and moves onto your legs.

With little other funny business, the two of you finish showering. She drapes a towel around you and gives herself a thorough drying. She leads you out of the bathroom and back to the living room. Laying some towels down on the couch she sits down and motions you onto her. You oblige, and she lightly wraps her arms around you as you do. After nuzzling your cheek from behind for a bit, she speaks.

“I'm gonna have to leave here soon enough.” It's about damn time.

“Okay.” She squeezes you a little bit.

“I want you to get plenty of rest, you hear me?” The fuck else are you gonna do? Go out and party?

“Alright.” She presses her snout into you and begins purring softly.


	18. Fumes.

You lay awake in bed. Your alarm has been going off for several minutes at this point. You pull the sheets off of yourself and crawl out of bed. Surely no one would mind if you stayed home today, right? You stand there for a few minutes more, fighting yourself. No. You already missed two days this week. You were able to get out of bed. You're able to take standing here. You push forward, getting dressed and heading to the bathroom. Thank God you actually showered yesterday, even if it wasn't under the best of circumstances. Stepping inside you see that you, somehow, look even worse than you feel. You've got a black eye that dominates your face and some scratches along the opposite site of it down by your cheek. You know what needs to be done. Lifting up your shirt you can already see enough along your sides to be a bit concerning. As you turn around you're met with an absolute horror story—a technicolor minefield across your entire back. From the way it _looks_ it's basically a miracle you're even alive, let alone up and walking around. Regardless, you push on. You've already put this much effort in today.

You snack on some random stuff at the table with the TV on in the background. It sucks not having any real breakfast. At least there's not gonna be any rain. Fuck, man, should you _really_ be going to school like this? Even if you _can_ make it through the day you'd still have everyone gawking at you for getting your ass beat. Having finished your food, you go to rinse the plate off. You drop it just before you can actually start washing it. It cracks in two, letting out a horrible snap as it does. At least none of it went down the drain. You stop yourself short of cleaning it up as you look back. It's almost six. It wouldn't take that long to clean up. At the same time, there's no way you're gonna match your normal pace today. That is if you decide to go, or really decide much of anything.

Fuck it. You made that decision when you got out of bed. And when you put on deodorant. And when you got dressed. And so on and so forth. You can clean it up when you get home anyways. You head towards the door, picking up your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder as you pass by it. Your knees buckle as it whacks into your back. You just about manage to support yourself with the handle of the door, taking the opportunity to throw your backpack off yourself he moment you can. You stand hunched against the door for a bit. You need to get moving. You _need_ to quit acting like a bitch. Taking you backpack like a briefcase you head out the door and try to make up for lost time.

Each step has to be taken more deliberately than the last. Trudging your way through no man's land, paying little attention to the usual scenery, you eventually come to the path where the deer guy always comes from. Sure enough, he's coming out right as you're passing. Seems like you managed to still make good time. As you look to him his eyes shoot wide open.

“ _Holy shit_!” His hands bolt to cover his mouth. Removing them, he continues. “Tristan, what _on_ _Earth_ happened to you?” With a bit of concentration you eventually work up a response.

“Got jumped by some hyenas.” His ears droop back down against his head.

“But, what are you doing?” Are you doing something?

“What do you mean?” He steps closer.

“I mean what are you doing out here? You should be in a hospital, or at the absolute least _at home_ , not going to school!” Maybe.

“But—“

“No. I can't let you do this to yourself. Besides, they'd send you home anyways. You'd only be making things worse for yourself for no reason.” They would, really? Before you can respond, he moves to the opposite side of you and takes your backpack right from your hands. You turn around to properly face him. “Come on.” He says, waving you towards him as he makes his way down the road. You follow. There's not much else to do at this point is there? You really did waste all of your time and energy this morning, didn't you?

After some walking, a thought crosses your mind.

“Wait, what about you?” Continuing to walk, he turns to you and cocks his head.

“What _about_ me?” You manage to keep walking alongside him.

“You're gonna miss the bus.” He stops for a moment before catching up to where he would've been.

“Quit worrying about me. I can just get a ride to school.” He chuckles lightly, shaking his head. “You really ought ta worry about yourself more.” Don't know what he's on about. You've been worrying about yourself plenty.

After several more years of walking the two of you have finally made it back to your house. He waits for you on the porch as you pull yourself up the steps. You dig the keys out of your pocket and work the door open. You step inside, expecting him to follow. Instead, he speaks once you turn back around to him.

“May I come in?” What? That's a pretty silly thing to ask, all things considered.

“Uh, sure.” He wipes his shoes against the outside of the door frame and steps inside.

“Where do you want me to set your backpack down?” Really? The hell's he walking on eggshells now for? You point in the general direction of the couch. He goes and sets it down in one of the seats. You turn around and get ready to see him off. He walks up beside you and begins to speak. “Hey—“ He then plants a hand on your back. You lurch forward, grabbing the couch in an attempt to keep yourself upright. He gasps. You only partially succeed. Soon you're down on one knee, just trying to hold yourself steady and from crumpling over completely. Your suppressed groans are interrupted. “I... S-sorry, I just—“ Oh fuck. He's probably gonna think he damn near killed you if you don't do something.

“It's alright.” You aren't able to lift your head to look at him.

“Are you really alright? I don't think that's—“ Shit. There's no way you can let him see your back if he thought just a black eye warranted a hospital visit.

“Yes. I'm fine. Just... just go.” You also don't want to waste any more of his time. He helped you home and now you've got him worried half to death about you.

“O-okay.” With that, he heads out the door. You're just about able to see his head, his ears ironed flat against it. He doesn't look back at you until he turns around to close the door. When he finally does he still avoids eye contact. Dammit.

It takes a few minutes for you to stand. Taking a step is almost more effort. There's no way you're staying up for the day. Hell, you probably aren't even gonna make it to bed. You think for a few moments. Looking back up you notice that it's been several minutes. Wow, you really aren't after all, are you? You stumble your way around the couch. You slowly collapse onto it, laying your head on the armrest. Maybe you _should_ 've gone to the hospital. Eh, whatever. What good it could've done you is probably long passed.


	19. High places.

You awake to a knocking at the door. You groan out for them to let themselves in before opening your eyes. Oh, right, you're in the living room. You pull yourself upright, the arm you were resting on falling limp to your side with static as you do. The knocking continues shortly as you sit there groggy for several moments. Eventually you force yourself to your feet and slowly head towards the door. Pulling open the door you come face to face with your homeroom teacher. What could she be doing here right now? She lets out a small gasp, then speaks.

“Oh dear. I hardly know where to begin. I'm terribly sorry about what happened to you, Tristan. I'm glad to see you didn't have to be hospitalized for it, at least.” You move back and let her step inside. “Is your father home at the moment?” You shake your head. “I see. Then do you mind if I take a moment of your time?” You close the door behind her and she heads towards the table.

“Sure.” You move to sit back down on the couch.

“Ah, I suppose that _would_ be better for you.” She brings her things to the couch and sets them down on the coffee table. Sitting at the opposite end from you, she begins taking some papers out of the folder. From your highly slouched position up against the armrest you can't make out what they are. “This is the schoolwork from today that you missed. You aren't expected to get it done anytime soon, I just thought it best to get it to you sooner rather than later.” But why'd she come out here just to give you some classwork? Surely they could've just waited to give it to you after you returned. “Additionally, you won't be coming to school next week, to start. We really want you to focus on your own health until you recover from this. _I_ want to make sure that you take care of yourself, alright?” Hold on.

“Wait, next week? I'm not gonna be going to school at all next week?” Not moving out of your slouch you turn your head to look directly at her.

“Yes. I heard about how you acted this morning, Tristan. I won't allow you to even entertain the thought of doing that to yourself.” Fuck, this is gonna trash your rick days, isn't it?

“But—“

“ **No**. It's a completely unacceptable way to treat yourself. I don't know if you feel as though you have something to prove because you're a human or if you believe others will view you as weak or what, but there is a certain threshold of ailment beyond which you simply must put your foot down and lick your wounds, and you are well beyond it. I am not going to let you put yourself into a tailspin just because you think you need to be tough. What you _need_ is to take care of yourself. What you need is to _be_ taken care of. Do you understand me?” You wouldn't have done that to yourself. You aren't that dumb.

“Y-yes ma'am.” You certainly aren't going to die on this hill though.

“Good. I'm glad to hear it.” Her ears perk up. “Ah, that must be your father.” What? What's she talking about?

“No? My dad's out of town on business. Won't be back until... Sunday, I think?” Her ears flop back down.

“I see. Must be someone that turned down the wrong road.” She re-organizes the papers and slips them back in the folder. She reaches into her bag and pulls out an envelope. Handing it to you, she speaks. “This is a letter that I was asked to deliver to you.” But by who? And why? Why would someone send you a _written letter_?

“Why couldn't they deliver it themselves?”

“We aren't allowed to disclose the addresses of our students unless strictly necessary.” Oh, that makes sense. As you flip it around to inspect it, her ears perk up once again. Yours would to if they could. Rather than turning around, the car that was coming towards your house stopped, and a door just slammed shut outside. She stands up. “Any idea on who that could be?” You mumble a negative response back to her. You force yourself up from your slouch and turn towards the door. As you do you notice the clock. You _finally_ notice the clock. It's after school.

No fucking shit it's after school. It's not as if your teacher would just interrupt her work to come deliver you a few random papers. Fuck's sake. At least now you can probably guess who it is. God knows how this is gonna go. You bring yourself to a stand and make your way to the door. You can hear her making her way up the steps, each of them straining with every step taken. You open the door. No surprises there. Before anything else, her nose twitches several times. She steps halfway inside before speaking.

“ **Who's that**?” Your teacher is soon to offer her own side of inquiry.

“Who's this?” Ah shit. Who do you need to get out of the way first? May as well start with closest.

“Uh...” As you try to address her by name you come to realize that you've never actually gotten her name. Jeez, all of this stuff and you don't even know her name? Oh well, no time to waste. “This is my teacher...” Uh, fuck. You _know_ that you know _her_ name. Time to switch gears. She becomes less tense, then steps inside fully. Somewhat thankfully, she interrupts you before you're forced to try to salvage this fumble any more.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, miss...” Your teacher soon continues, moving towards the door to meet her.

“Miss Dougall. I'm Tristan's homeroom teacher.” They soon begin shaking hands.

“I'm Susan, a close friend of Tristan's father. He asked me to check up on him while he's out of town.” _Susan_ , apparently, closes the door. They both relax a bit and move towards the couch.

“I see. I came out here to deliver some things to Tristan on behalf of the school.” You follow and sit down near the edge. “I take it you're aware of what happened to Tristan recently?”

“ **Very**. I found 'em _while_ it was happening.” Your teacher's ears shoot up.

“ _Really_?” She leans forward to look at you. You give her a nod. They go back to talking about you, each other, the situation, as well as just getting to know each other. They almost sound more like gossiping housewives. Whatever, at least it gives you plenty of time to lay down and rest. They don't seem to mind having you sit and listen in on them as much as you do. If you even remotely had the energy you'd at least move away. Listening to them talk is only so tolerable when your teacher is giving her so much undue praise and thanks.

It's alright. You can't hold it against her. As far as she knows all this boar woman has done for you is basically save your life. Just as you begin to doze off to not have to listen to them any more you're stopped short by both of them standing up.

“Well, I'm certainly very relieved to know that Tristan has people close to him in his life who will look out for him.” The boar woman rubs the back of her neck.

“I oughtta say the same to you.” With a short handshake, the two make their way past you and towards the door. They step outside for a moment before the boar woman steps back inside. You soon hear your teacher's car start up, turn around in front of your house, and head down the road, leaving just the two of you here once again.

You open your eyes in shock as she lets herself drop straight onto the couch. Poor thing. Arms splayed out over the back of the couch, she looks to you and speaks.

“Y'know, you really scared me for a second there.” What? You scared _her_?

“What do you mean?” She slips her boots off.

“Thought you might've brought home some other hussy, gotten tired of me already.” Oh, that's what she means. _Scared_ , right. Not exactly the word you would've used. You let out a halfhearted chuckle at her little joke. “Eh, don't worry, if that _were_ the case I would've at least waited until you gotten better.” You know what? Better to just not think about what she means. She then takes off her shirt and tosses it to you.

“Uh, what are you—“

“Getting comfortable. What, you expecting more visitors?” Well, you weren't even expecting the first one.

“No.”

“Then quit'yer bitchin'.” Noted. Whether you like it or not.

The two of you just sit on the couch for some time, her half-naked and you half-asleep with history documentaries playing quietly on the TV. You just about manage to notice when she speaks to you.

“When's the last time you ate?” When _was_ the last time you ate? Shit, have you really only eaten that half-breakfast? You mumble up a response.

“Why?” She turns to face you and cocks an eyebrow. “This morning.” You know better than to be coy when she gets like that. Letting out a small sigh and some snorts, she grabs her shirt from your lap and throws it back on. She ditches the hoodie around her waist as she stands. You watch as she makes her way to the kitchen. Without the hoodie acting as a curtain you can really see just how much she fills out those sweatpants. With every step you get a full view of—

Argh, no, fuck man, _really_? You're seriously doing this _now_? No. You've gotta stop this. _You_ need to stop this. You can't let your dick run wild over some fatass beast of a boar woman just because... Well it doesn't really matter what it's because of. You just can't. With your eyes firmly planted on the TV you decide you may as well put in a bit of extra effort. A bit of pain and a cold, hard chair under your ass would probably help. Besides, you're gonna be eating soon anyways. You move upright and prepare to stand, until she yells out from the kitchen.

“ **Sit down**.” You move back into your relaxed lean up against the armrest. Welp, she sure shut that down quick. At least you've still got the TV to help clear your thoughts.

After dozing off to something on the TV about a 'Baltic Fleet' you're brought back awake by her setting something down on the coffee table. One plate, with one pile of food, with one set of utensils. She then sets herself down right in front of it. Leaning back, she lays an arm over the back of the couch. Looking to you, she then pats her lap a few times. After enough moments, she speaks.

“Need me to get you?” You sigh.

“No.” You scoot yourself over to her bit by bit. After getting close enough she hoists you onto her lap and leans forward. Leaning forward, she grabs hold of the fork. She must've put you pretty far forward considering that you can only feel her nipples pressing into your back. At least _that_ doesn't hurt. She brings a forkful of food up to your mouth and you simply let her feed you. It could certainly be worse. She brings the second up, this time beside you head instead of to you. You hear her snort a few times before shoveling it into her own maw. Her snout being directly next to your face, you also hear every part of the process of her eating it. Thankfully it's over fast just from the way she eats, but it's certainly no more pleasant _while_ it's happening.

She brings it up to you again. Couldn't she feed the two of you separately at the very least? The few moments you take to think are apparently enough for her to think you're trying to put your foot down. She grabs your cheeks in her hand and effortlessly squeezes your mouth open like you're some unruly kid refusing to take his medicine. You don't even grab her arm as she manhandles you. Feigning resistance won't do you any good. At least before it wouldn't really do you any harm as long as you didn't drag it on too long. Now, though, you'd only be actively harming yourself in doing so. Why'd you even bother in the first place? It won't change anything. Well, it'll probably wear her patience thin, but that's about it. Regardless of what you did, things would've been the same. She'll get her way in the end even if you pretend like you're putting up some valiant resistance effort. You should stop thinking about this.

_Should_ you stop thinking about this? Why is it that you want to stop thinking on it? No. You know damn well what it is: Apprehension, or more accurately in your case, being a pussy. You've told yourself it plenty of times before, but now that it comes to legitimately realizing and accepting it you're getting cold feet. You only hurt yourself by denying it. You're wasting energy very much so better spent elsewhere. You're brought out of the autopilot of your body and off the chopping block in your mind by her hacking up a storm right in your ear.

“You alright?” She finishes up and tosses a small bone onto the edge of the plate.

“Yeah.” She snorts and ruffles your hair a bit. The two of you go back to eating. You choose to let the TV keep you distracted and out of your own mind.

After finishing up, she grabs you by the armpits and helps you move off of her. She gets to cleaning the dishes in the kitchen and you go back to leaning against the armrest. After some moments she comes, hooks her hands under your armpits again, and helps bring you to a stand. Soon thereafter she simply picks you up completely and carries you out of the living room. She has you open the bathroom door for her and carries you in. She sets you down on the edge of the tub and gives your shirt a tug. You lift your arms up and she pulls it off of you. Before even setting it down she lets out some sort of grunt.

“Oh, that is just awful. You're gunna need carin' for for weeks.” At least you can compensate for her teasing. If that were true then she'd have said months. Seems like next week off is probably about all you'll need. “The fine touch of a woman is just the thing you need.” Neither fine nor womanly are words you'd ever use in relation to her, but if she wants to tell herself that then who are you to stop her. She proceeds to help you strip the rest of the way, followed by herself. Sitting down next to you she turns on the faucet. After simply letting the water run over her hand for some time she gets up. She gently moves you into the tub and steps in behind you. After closing the shower curtain she steps straight over you and switches the water to the shower head. She takes the shower head and steps back behind you, sitting down and moving the two of you into the same position as before.

The rest of your shower is similarly repetitive, thankfully, however, leaving out any touching of your back. She gets up and out of the tub and dried herself off so hard and fast it makes you wonder whether she'll catch fire. She's generous enough to use a different towel to dry you off after she gets you out of the tub. Throwing both towels over her shoulders, she picks you up once more. She walks you out to the living room and sets you down naked on the couch. She lays the towels down over the couch and then herself on top of them, her head resting on the armrest you were using earlier. She waves you over to her and pats her chest.

“Need me to?” You pick yourself up enough to crawl over to her.

“No.” You lay yourself down on top of her face down, your head resting right on her belly. She grabs you by the arms and pulls you up herself, her fur giving plenty of resistance the whole way. She stops after dragging you to the point where your head is between her breasts. May as well just embrace it and get whatever enjoyment out of it that you can. You bring your arms close in and gently grab onto her fur. Your head becomes enveloped on all sides as she begins rubbing you with one of her hands, the other lightly taking hold of your arm. Her soft purring helps to take your mind off that smell of hers you've got no choice but to take in. Thankfully it's been considerably weakened by her being freshly bathed. Or probably bathed at all. Maybe her forcing the two of you to shower together isn't so bad if it'll make her smell almost bearable. Your breathing slowing as you doze off also helps.

Just before you slip completely into sleep, you feel her release your arm, wiggle your hand free of her fur, and take your hand in hers.


	20. Mustard.

You slowly come to, for the first time in a while getting some actual rest. After laying awake in bed for some time, you crane your head to check the time. It's quite late in the morning. That _would_ explain why you're alone. At least she had the decency to put you in bed first. You turn over in bed, letting out a yelp as you put yourself on your back. The yelp morphs into a drawn out groan as you hurry to flip back onto your stomach. You hear heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. She throws open your door and the two of you make eye contact. Seems she didn't feel like leaving after all. You manage to mumble out to her.

“I'm... alright.” She makes her way over to you and kneels next to the bed. Lightly rubbing your head, she plants her muzzle on your face for a few moments. She pulls back and speaks.

“I'll get something going.” She stands up and leaves, thankfully not bringing you with her. You should probably enjoy this while it lasts.

In no time at all she's back to you. You still being completely sapped of energy, she has to do most of he work in getting you out of bed. She awkwardly maneuvers you to the edge so that she can pick you up without raking your back across the bed. Once she does, however, it's pretty easy from there. You let yourself lie limp in her arms as she carries you out to the living room. She sets you down on the couch and takes a seat beside you. There's a large bowl of oatmeal on a plate on the coffee table. Boy, wonder how this could go. One arm lightly draped around your shoulder, she takes a spoonful with the other and brings it to your mouth. Ooh, it's apple-cinnamon! As you take your time to enjoy it, you see, to no one's surprise, her shoveling a spoonful into her own maw. You're half-tempted to tell her to get her own.

After finishing up, she wipes the mess from your face using her own and takes the dishes to the kitchen. You lean into the armrest as you've learned to do and try to let yourself rest even more. The rustling around in the kitchen continues for quite some time. Fridge and cabinets being open and closed more than a few times with the sink going on more than enough for just a bowl of oatmeal. You should be grateful though, at least she isn't trying to make conversation. Just as you think that, you hear her walking to you with something in her hands. Looking up, you see her towering directly over you with a giant blob of something in her arms.

“Lay down.” Aren't you already laying down though? You mumble out a sign of your confusion. “ _On your stomach_.” Oh. You put yourself upright and then crawl your way into laying down. The couch is just about big enough to fit you stretched out with your arms as headrests. You gasp as she places it down onto your back—another wrapped bag of ice. The initial sting soon turns to pleasure as your body relaxes and your gasp becomes a moan into the couch. You partially tense up for a moment when she pinches your ass.

“Heh, why didn't you let out anything like that for me before?” Oh come on, can't she lay off of her brand of teasing even once? Eh, whatever, it's pretty light compared to the usual from her. Sitting down on the armrest right next to your head, she grabs hold of your arms and slowly lifts you up. Not to pick you up, just enough to put some space between your head and the couch. You soon find out why as she slides herself down off of the armrest and under your head. She sets your head back down, now in her lap, and rests a hand on your head.

As you try to breathe, you're interrupted by a small fit of coughing. It takes a moment to really hit you just how staggering it is. It's unbelievable that everything she touches doesn't smell like this. Like a nuke magically being contained to a single parking space levels of absurd. Wait, does your dick smell like this now? Do _you_ smell like this? Hold on, don't humans have terrible sense of smell? Has everyone else around you been able to smell her on you? No, there's no way. Someone would've at least questioned you about it. Your body shudders as you take another breath. Unfortunately, just not breathing isn't really an option. How is it even possible for anything to smell like this? It's not even necessarily... _bad_ , it's just...

Taking a deeper breath of her forces you into letting out a groan. Apparently mistaking this for some moan of pleasure, she forces your head deeper in. Much deeper. You have to move your right arm out from under you and back to your side. You can feel your nose, _and mouth_ , pressed against something a bit damp. You never thought you'd be grateful to her, let alone her sweatpants, but here you are. The only thing keeping you even remotely separated from her is that poor, poor piece of cloth.

You don't want to breathe again, but you don't have the energy to even begin to hold your breath. Your whole body warms as you take her in again, next to no dry air being allowed in this time. If it weren't for that giant bag of ice on your back you'd probably just cook right on the spot. You feel your blood begin to flow. Oh no. Another groan from you sets her off purring. You really just need to get yourself used to it as quick as you can. At least then you'll be able to ignore and just go to sleep. You steel yourself and begin to inhale. It's too big of a breath for you to handle but you just need to get this over with. Shuddering once again, you grip onto her thigh with your left hand. She starts rubbing your head as you moan into her. You wrap your free arm around her back, working your hand under her shirt and grabbing hold of her fur. She snorts a few times.

“Alright, that's enough. Can't have you keeping yourself all fucked up just cuz yer a horny little fucker.” _What_? You weren't—No, no. It's just more of her teasing. Don't let yourself get all worked up over that. You should really be used to it by now. “You don't got nothing to worry about. Soon as you're all better I'll make sure me and you make up for all this lost time and then some.” Fuck. Guess you shouldn't be surprised. Of course she's not gonna do all of this taking care of you with no strings attached. You should _really_ focus on just getting to sleep now. Hopefully by the time you wake up you'll have been breathing her for long enough that it'll basically be like just breathing any air, won't even notice her.


	21. Old crayon box.

You awake from her pushing you back onto her lap rather than in it. She wiggles her way out from under you, resting you back down on the couch. As you move your head to see what she does she notices that you've woken up. She rubs your head before standing up.

“Gunna get to making something here in a second, alright.” You mumble out a response as she walks off. You turn your head to face the TV instead of the couch. A documentary about the Korean War is playing, though you can barely even hear it. There's also still some papers from before spread out on the table. Oh, and there's also that letter someone sent you. You hear her slamming some cabinets open and shut, followed by the fridge. She stomps her way back over to you.

“Alright, gonna have to head out to the store for a bit. Shouldn't be too long.” She puts her hand on your cheek and kneels down in front of you. She almost presses her snout to your face, stopping just shy of it. Then she just... sits there for a few seconds. She cocks her eyebrows at you. _Oh_. You manage to lift your head and press your lips to her snout. The two of you share a few moments together before she rubs your head and pulls back.

“Heh, good boy. Knew you'd figure it out.” Ew. “Anyways, gotta get going now, don't you go running off on me.” Chuckling and snorting a few times, she stands and makes her way to the door. She firmly shuts it behind her and heads to her van. You hear a door slam shut, the engine turn on, and the van turn around and make its way down the road. It's a shame she'll be back so soon.

You stretch your arm out as far as it can go. You're _just_ about able to get the envelope under your finger. You fling it back towards yourself, nearly sending it right over the edge. Grabbing it, you bring it to yourself and begin to tear at the seal. It's fairly messy, the envelope having quite the sturdy seal. This thing must've gotten one hell of a licking, or maybe just glue? Finally getting it open fully, you wiggle the paper out and unfold it. It's in pristine condition and covered in very fanciful writing. It's written in cursive that you can barely make out and has a strange format to it. It's certainly not really any normal letter. As you start reading you realize what it is: a poem of sorts. It only continues to become more enigmatic as you read. Something about an asteroid coming down from the sky, then some guy coming out of it and bathing a world of darkness in light. What the hell is this, some sort of fanfiction? Despite the quality of the letter itself and handwriting, the content of the poetry itself isn't exactly anything to speak of. Actually, it's almost sort of... shitty? Who knows. You aren't exactly one for poetry, so maybe it's just lost on you. It keeps up the trend as you get further down the page, failing to get any more comprehensible. Eventually you get to the bottom of the page and are finally met with something normal: a signature.

“ _Yours, always and forever, Bethany~”_ Your heart sinks. Ah fuck man, seriously? She wrote all of this for you and then you go and call it shitty? That's awful.

Wait, “always and forever?” Isn't that a bit... intense? Actually, nevermind. Considering the content of the rest of it it was probably just something done as a formality or to increase its literary value or something. Probably some high level writing stuff that you just don't get. Folding it back up, you carefully put it back into the envelope and lay it on the coffee table. Well, that was nice of her, even if you didn't really get it. Actually, now that you think about it, you'd still be willing to read plenty more, even if it is mostly because you have absolutely nothing else to do but wait for the boar to get back. You lay your head back into your arms and close your eyes.

You raise your head at hearing the door crack open. She's back, and with plastic bags draped halfway up at least one of her arms. Closing the door behind herself with her foot, she makes her way to the kitchen and sets them down along the counters. She shuffles around a fair bit, opening and closing cabinets and the fridge plenty of times. That's probably gonna be quite the mess to clean up. After continuing for some time, she puts a large pot on the counter. The sink runs, with lots of chopping of things following. Eh, probably not too much point worrying about it. If the last couple of times are anything to go by then it should at least be decent.

You're startled by the bag on your back suddenly being lifted off of you. She carries it away and dumps the water down the sink before coming back over to you. She softly places her hand on your back.

“How's it feel? Still hurt?” You wince and nod your head.

“Yeah, a bit.” She grabs you by the hands and helps you upright.

“Think you can walk?” You've _been_ able to walk.

“Yes.” She puts a finger to your chin and pulls you up to look at her.

“Don't get snappy with me, got it?” You shiver.

“Y-yes.” She lets your chin drop and pulls you to your feet.

“C'mon, I let you get away with being naked for breakfast but I ain't lettin' you for supper.” _Let_ , right. After making sure you're steady, she lets go of you and lets you stand on your own again. You begin to slowly make your way around the couch and head to your bedroom. She follows close behind, ready to catch you at a moment's notice.

You reach into your drawers and pull out some underwear. Turning around, you see her give you a little wave back over to her. You follow. She takes the underwear from your hand, kneels down, and motions for you to lift your foot up. She pulls them onto you leg slightly and motions for the other. After getting them onto both she begins to pull them up. She stops short as she suddenly presses her cold, wet snout straight into your dick, her tusks grinding up against your thighs. She takes a deep breath before abruptly ripping her muzzle away from your crotch. She yanks your underwear all the way up, damn near giving you a wedgie. After she lets go of you you maneuver your boner into a non-painful position. Is this bitch fucking neurotic or something?

Thankfully, the rest of your dressing goes by with little issue. Leading you out of your room, she takes you back to the couch instead of the table.

“Didn't you say you were getting me dressed for dinner?” She gives you a somewhat surprised look.

“Yeah, don't mean it's right now. It'll be a couple hours til it's done.” Wait, what? She was, rather, _is_ , making dinner and now she's just not tending to it? The hell is she even making? Letting go of you, she sits down and pats her lap. You sit down with her. She nuzzles the side of your face, her tusk scraping against your chin. She pulls you into her, but close enough that only her boobs are touching your back. It stung at first, but at least it's gone away now. Besides, they do feel good, if nothing else.

One hand rubbing up and down your stomach under your shirt, she grabs the remote with the other and turns up the volume. Some documentary on the history of the marines is on. Hopefully it at least partially grabs her attention away from molesting you. Saying that, it's actually grabbed _your_ attention some. You never knew they had them on ships with the navy, always thought they were just an army-lite. Makes sense, given the name, but still. Probably also shouldn't let dad know you thought that. Unfortunately you're brought out of your thoughts as she gives you a little squeeze and speaks.

“A brother of mine actually served in the marines.” Very interesting. It's hard to believe she even has a family, let alone one that didn't just completely abandon her. “Pretty easygoing guy, was definitely surprised when he decided to join up.” Ah shit, is she really gonna start just ranting to you about random personal bullshit? “Y'know, that's actually how I met your dad, believe it or not.” You turn to face her as best you can.

“ _Wait, what_?” She's bullshitting you.

“Yeah, no shit! They served together. One day got a call from him telling me he needed me to do a favor for his friend. Three of us met up one day and I got a spot in my shop lined up for him for whenever he moved down.” What the _actual_ fuck is this? There's no way. It isn't even physically possible. “Small world. Who knew my brother's mate's kid would end up becoming my man?” _Her_ man? She's fucking delusional. You'll let her keep telling herself that for now, but you'll put a stop to it eventually. “Man, I remember when I pulled up here with your dad. I just couldn't believe that _he_ was _your_ dad. You wouldn't even believe how surprised I was to find out.” Oh, yeah, _she_ 's the one who was surprised. Not you when you found out she was was your dad's fucking boss. _Her_ , _she_ was the one who was surprised. She gives your stomach a little rub. “That was pretty damn lucky, don't ya think?”

“Yeah.” You sheepishly offer.

“Would've been a real pain in the ass otherwise. I know you wouldn't go running off on me even then cuz you're a good boy for me, ain't that right?” She squeezes you a bit tighter.

“Yeah.” How much would it have even changed? Given you more time to sit around doing nothing about it? She digs her snout into your cheek and purrs into you.

“That's what I like to hear.” After a while of her sitting there with her wet muzzle pressed against you, she pulls back. You gasp as she shifts you around and makes you sit perpendicular to her. She supports you by the shoulder with her right arm, using her free left hand to rub at your thigh. You look down away from her. She give you a slight jerk by the shoulder. “Hey.” You know what she wants. As you look up, she pulls you closer to her and puts her muzzle near your face. Once again, she makes you take the final step.

Wrapping your left arm around her back for support, you press your lips to her snout and begin to kiss her. She quickly makes it messy, inhaling half your face and raking her tusks up and down your cheeks and jaws. The cold and somewhat sticky substance that coats the end of her snout begins to get painted onto your face. The only thing stopping you from completely falling backwards is her holding you up. Her grip on you tightens whenever she forces herself deeper into your mouth as she tries to compensate for her own force. It stings a bit, but is mostly fine thanks to her holding you by the shoulder. That is, until her hand slips down during a particularly rough bout from her and effectively smacks you in the ribs. Your yelp is completely drowned out as it attempts to fight its way directly through her. As your grip suddenly tightens on her back, she pulls herself of of you and you gasp for air. She shifts her hand straight to your arm.

“You alright?” It takes you a few more deep breaths before you can respond.

“Y-yeah, yeah, I'm alright.” She gently shifts you back to a _normal_ sitting position in her lap. As you rest again against her boobs she takes your hands in hers. She sits there, holding each of them in each of hers in your lap. As she rests her chin on your head, she begins to let out a low, soft purr that you can barely feel. If you had a fan on in the room you'd've probably assumed it was that instead.

Sitting there, as close to alone as you can get with her right here, one thought comes to the front of your mind: How? How does she live like this? How can she so quickly flip flop like this? It's a miracle, curse, really, that she can even drive without just randomly deciding to do something that'd get her killed. Actually... no, considering how many times she's driven you and your dad around, it really is a miracle. What she's done definitely isn't worth getting someone killed over, especially not if it's you or your dad. But... is it really worth getting _anyone_ killed over? Even as much as you couldn't believe it, she _does_ , apparently, have family. Besides that, what about your dad? He'd end up out of a job again. Not like he'd somehow own the place. Then what would you guys do? You'd really just be fucked. Yeah, that's it. Can't have her dying, not until your dad gets another place lined up, at least. Here's to hoping that when he does he'll decide to move someplace far as fuck away—Washington, maybe?


	22. Not quite three.

You're brought out of your daze by her sniffing several times. This time she's not sniffing you, just the air in general. She grabs you under the arms and stands up with you.

“Alright, should be just about ready by now.” She then walks off into the kitchen, allowing you to catch up at your own pace. Somehow, by the time you've gotten to the table, she's already prepared it. Just one bowl, just one spoon. Is she really gonna do this every chance she gets? Unsurprisingly, after setting it down on the table, she sits down clearly making herself ready for you to sit with her. You walk over and sit back down in her lap. “Heh, didn't think you'd be wanting to sit with me some more after doing it all day. Guess I'm just that good to ya.” Yeah, as fucking if.

No, don't. Don't let her get to you. It's just the way she is. You should be used to it by now. If you let yourself sit around brooding about it then you're gonna slip up one day and actually say some snarky shit to her. She'd probably backhand you straight into a coma if you really got uppity with her. You're interrupted by her sniffing the spoonful of stew she's brought up to her mouth. She then puts it to your mouth, rather than eating it herself. She feeds it to you as you open your mouth. At least it's still good food. Yeah, you should just focus on that instead. You _are_ pretty hungry after all.

The rest of dinner goes on according to her normal, only interrupted by her getting some refills, mostly for herself. Eventually she gets up for the final time as she begins washing out the bowl.

“Hey, go get the shower running.” You get up from the chair and head into the bathroom. You turn the hot water on and set it going. You begin to undress yourself. At least if you do it yourself you can hang your clothes up in a more organized manner. After that, you go set your hand under the water to make sure it actually is heating up. You jump as your ass is suddenly pinched. She grabs you by the arms and turns you around. “Well damn, you're just eager to please today, ain't you?” Remember, just ignore it. Let her say what she wants.

She undresses herself this time, then going to inspect the water herself. Much to your surprise, she switches it from the shower head to the faucet. She then plugs the drain and sits down in the tub. Stretching herself out, she groans, making sure to rub your leg as her hand passes by it. After some time she turns off the faucet.

“Alright, come here.” You stand up. You put one foot into the tub, ready to lay down on her before she interrupts you. “Other way.” Seems like you'll have to face her after all. You take your foot out, turn around and begin to get in again. She snorts as she watches you do so. As you sit down, she grabs you under the arms and pulls you into her. She puts your chin resting on her shoulder lays you out on top of her.

With you sticking partway out of the water, she brings up scoops of it and washes the exposed part of your back. You groan a bit as she gently rubs her hands along your back.

“Still hurt?” You lift your head up to speak.

“Yeah, a bit.” She wraps one arm around you, stroking your head with her other hand. You bring one arm up to rest your chin on, letting the other sit to the side of her belly. As she breathes, you feel her fur shifting underneath you, brushing at most of your body. You slip down as she breathes out, causing your dick to rub right up between her thighs. The water makes her fur float all over the place rather than lay flat against it and act as a curtain. It makes it all the easier to accidentally feel just how hot she is as you rub directly against her. You can feel your blood begin to rush, drowning out even the heat of the water.

After a moment of impotent panic, you come to a realization: This is fine. You know she's not going to fuck you right now with how injured you still are, especially not in the bathtub. In fact, you already know exactly how this is going to play out. You're going to get hard. She'll feel your boner rub up against her. Then she'll make some self-gratifying quip teasing you. But this time you'll be ready. Rather than floundering about trying to not be flustered, you can just go on relaxing. Well, about as relaxed as you can be with her right here, anyways. Still, getting hard does put you on edge a bit, if that's the right way to put it. As she breathes out, you once again slip downward. This time your dick ends up laying flat against her. It's a bit much for you, but you manage. Right on time, you feel her shift slightly as she prepares to speak.

“I know you're gettin' pent up, being around so much woman for so long and all, but save it for later.” Heh-heh! Fucking spot on! It's a real good thing she can't smell you smiling right now or else you'd probably be in a lot of trouble. See? You can handle this. You're getting used to it already.

She drags you with her as she stands up, the lukewarm water pouring off her in a quick-fading torrent. Stepping around you, she bends down and unplugs the drain. She scoops up several handfuls of fur that collect as the water drains. After tossing it in the little trash bin, she grabs a towel and starts damn-near sanding herself with it. She then wraps it around herself and grabs another towel. Draping it over you, she rubs you all over with it, taking care to make sure she keeps you standing. Once finished, she leads you out into the living room, unwraps her towel, and lays them both on the couch.

She sits down, sinking into the couch. To your surprise, she pats the spot next to her rather than her lap. Not being one to lick a gift horse in the mouth, you sit down alongside her. You ease yourself into a regular sit. After the initial sting, you're able to more or less sit as normal with your back against the upper cushion. She wraps her arm around you, resting her hand on your shoulder. It's quite the weight, but it at least isn't painful. The two of you sit there for some time simply letting yourselves air dry. You begin to doze off as she watches something on the TV. You stumble awake as she gives you a little shake. Turning the TV off, she stands up. Knowing that she expects you to follow, you force yourself up with her. She turns off the lights as she leads you out of the living room. Doing the same down the hallway, she leads you into your bedroom.

She locks the door behind you after you enter. Again shutting off the lights, she throws your sheets open. You jump a bit as she grabs you, only having your hearing to guide you. She brings you over to bed and sits you down on the edge. She crawls in and drags the covers partway up. She then guides you onto her, making you lay directly on top of her, stomach down. As you steady yourself there on her, she pulls the sheets all the way up, completely covering you. She drapes both of her arms over you, yet still holds you firmly in place. It slowly begins to warm up under the covers. Her soft purring sends you over the edge. Your hands grasp into her fur as you quickly fade into sleep. As you start taking deeper breaths, you can't help but feel that something isn't quite right. Whatever, it'd be too much energy to use up right now.

You awake from her shifting around and bringing her arms off of you. You're furthered perturbed by her dragging herself back to sit upright. As she does so, you slip off of her. Before you can flop onto the bed, your face is dragged between her thighs. Something wet is smeared onto you, your nose getting the worst of it. You groan as your face hits the mattress. She throws the sheets off of you. She rests a hand on your head as you shiver slightly.

“Alright, I gotta get going so I can pick your dad up from the rental place. We should be back soon enough. Make sure you get up and going before then, alright?” Mumbling out a response, you pick yourself up as best you can. Seemingly dissatisfied with that, she helps you to a full upright sit and has you give a more lucid answer. Before you can, however, she brings her snout close to your face and sniffs you several times. Snorting and chuckling to herself a bit, she interrupts you. “Heh, make sure you, uh, _freshen up_ , as it were. Don't want your dad thinking I was having you eatin' my pork while I got you alone.” Understandable. That _would_ sort of ruin her. You nod and mumble. _But_ , it would also sort of ruin you as well, both indirectly and directly. She moves herself to sitting on the edge of the bed. Just as it seems she's about to stand up, she turns around and grabs firm hold of your arm. “Seriously. You'd better have that shit all cleaned up before I get back. _Understood_?” Well, that certainly helped smack you awake.

“Y-yeah.” She lets go of your arm and finally stands up.

“Good.” Unlocking the door, she heads out of your bedroom, leaving you to yourself.

Your back aches as you move to get up. Her carrying you around like some doll so much really helped you be a lazy fuck, huh? Just gotta push through it for now. It should only get better. So long as you don't push yourself too hard, at least. By the time you're dressed and stepping out of your bedroom, you can hear her van starting up outside. Heading into the bathroom, you see all of your clothes sitting in a pile on the counter. Guess you must've just been feeling extra lazy when you undressed. After brushing your teeth and _freshening up_ in general, you bring your clothes from yesterday over to the laundry bin. You trudge your way over to the computer and set yourself down in the chair as gently as you can. You're gonna have the whole week off from school. By Wednesday your back will probably be pretty much fine. You'll be able to go back to something more normal once your dad gets back. You're _finally_ gonna have some time to actually relax.


	23. Supercritical.

Out the corner of your eye, you spot her van coming down the road. You pick yourself up out of the chair and head to the living room. By the time you do, they've already parked and gotten out. You decide to stand there next to the couch and wait for them to get inside. Soon enough the door is cracked open, your dad entering shortly thereafter, with Susan stepping in a few moments later. Before anything else, he moves straight to you and wraps his arms around you. He keeps it a light hug, not touching your back as best he can. He gives you a few taps on the shoulder before releasing you.

“You making it okay? Aside from the obvious.” Nodding, you once again prop yourself up on the couch with your arm.

“Yeah, I'm doing alright.”

“That's good to hear.” There's a noticeable pause before he continues. “Well, how about we talk over lunch?” He turns back to her. “You wanna join us?” Well, it could be worse. She perks up and quickly comments.

“Sure, just gimme a sec.” As your dad then moves past you to the kitchen, you head around and sit down on the couch. Susan steps back outside, closing the door behind herself. You turn on the TV and ease yourself into leaning back. Just as soon as she left, Susan comes back inside, interrupting the news. Thankfully she heads into the kitchen, rather than further disturbing you. You hear both of them speaking, but you can't quite make out what it is they're saying. It's probably nothing worth worrying too much about.

A tap on your shoulder brings you out of your trance. As you look back, she points towards the table and then goes to sit down. Turning off the TV, you follow. Nothing too fancy, just a few sandwiches for lunch. The three of you sit there for a moment. Picking up her sandwich, she cleaves a chunk out of it. You begin to eat at yours as well. Your dad, however, simply sits there. After some deep breaths, he interrupts your eating.

“So...” You and her both stop. “Well, there's no getting around it. Money was a bit tight before, now I'm gonna be in the red. I can't cut spending enough to make up for it, so I'm gonna have to get extra hours at work if we're gonna keep up just what we're living with now.” Before you can even process what he's said, she speaks.

“What a bitch.” Without looking to her, he immediately responds.

“Language.” She rolls her eyes.

“Right, right. Sorry.” She clears her throat a bit before continuing, putting on her best impression of a generic posh snob. “ _What an unpleasant leech of a woman_.” He sighs.

“Look, you know I don't like asking for favors, but I _really_ need to put in more hours. So could you do that for me?” She gives you a somewhat confused glance. You can do nothing but look back to him. She then responds.

“Huh? 'Course I can do that for you. Surprised you didn't just ask for a raise.” As she chuckles lightly to herself, he sighs once more.

“I _don't_ ask for handouts. You should know that.” She inhales what remains of her sandwich before he continues. “But, there's still one other problem.” He looks straight to you. “Tristan.” What? _You_? In what way? “I can't just leave you here alone for basically the entire week. Not when you're in this state, anyways.” You straighten up.

“What do you mean? I'm fine. I'm more than fine enough to just sit around the house on my own.” No. It's all too easy to tell where this road is gonna go if you let him go down it.

“No, you aren't. These sorts of things are very unstable. You might _look_ fine, but it's only one bad step, sometimes literally, away from dragging it out for days more than it should be. They're much worse on the inside than they are on the outside.” Oh shit. You're gonna need to come up with something other than brute force insisting that you'll be fine. As your mind races for ideas, you fail to come up with anything. You decide to pad the conversation out for now to give yourself more time.

“Look, I'm really alright. I've been—“ She lets her hand drop onto the table. Taking you getting startled by it as an opportunity, she interrupts you.

“Don't sit there and lie to him. You don't even look fine.” You feel a bead of sweat drip down your side. Before you can think any further about the situation you're in, he turns to her.

“What?” Maintaining eye contact with you, she spits out her order for you.

“ **Show him**.” You freeze in your seat. After several moments of deadlock between the two of you, you stand up. A wave of relief washes over you as you turn around, finally being able to break away from her glare. It's short lived, however. You lift your shirt up to reveal your back to him. He stands up and wastes no time in giving the two of you a piece of his mind.

“Are you kidding? And across his _whole_ back!? This is _way_ worse than you made it out to be.” You let go of your shirt and sit back down. “Just what did it look like right after the fact?” As he sits back down, she tries to make eye contact with you again. You keep your gaze averted down towards the table. Thankfully, she lets it slide.

“It was pretty rough, even for me. Really just the usual stuff but cranked up to eleven.”

“And why didn't you take him to the hospital?”

“You know how close the nearest hospital is? Riding that far in the van would've killed him. Not literally, but, y'know.” He sighs again.

“Fine.” The three of you sit there in silence for several seconds. You're hit by a sudden realization: That was the time you were supposed to be using to think of a better excuse! Without thinking, you try to make up something on the fly.

“I really—“ She slams her fist on the table. You instinctively look up, accidentally making eye contact with her. Even your dad was startled by that.

“ **Tristan, quit it.** ” You sit petrified in your chair, unable to do anything but reciprocate her stare. “Stop trying to act tough. I _know_ damn well exactly how bad it was. Why are you so desperate to not be helped by anyone?” This... she... this **fucking** **bitch**. What she knows damn well is just what she's planning. But, what the fuck is there that you can do? “Well?”

“I'm not.” Seemingly satisfied enough with your answer, she huffs. Your dad quickly speaks up.

“Anyways, as I was saying—I need someone to take care of Tristan for the week, _but_ you aren't available for the time I actually need someone else to do it. So, I'm stuck with having to try my hand at asking around town, on a Sunday, the few other people I both know well enough to trust around him and that are actually capable of taking care of him. _And_ , since my car's still busted, I can't do it myself.” He turns to her. “So, could you help me out again? Of course, you can take the gas money out of my paycheck.” She breaks eye contact with you and rubs the top of her snout. She sits there, contemplating for several seconds.

“Actually, you guys got a computer?” He cocks his head at her.

“What? Of course we have a computer, we aren't that poor. Besides, it's basically a necessity nowadays anyways.” She shakes her head, chuckling slightly.

“Not what I meant. _If you wanted_ , and this is completely up to you, I could use your computer to take care of the overhead stuff from here. That way I'd be able to keep the gears turning _and_ be able to look after him at the same time. Since you're gonna be working extra anyways, that'll make up for me not actually being there myself. That seems to take care of all of our issues. Sound good to you?” There it is. There it **fucking** is. She's cooked up some way to weasel herself into your personal life _once again_. She just can't bring herself to leave you alone for **a single fucking day**. After thinking for a few moments, he responds.

“Yeah, that works.” He sighs. “Thanks. You're a real lifesaver.” Of course. There he fucking goes. Fucking dumb ass doesn't stop to think for a single fucking second about ' _Hey, is it strange that this random woman I barely know is suddenly trying to do everything she can to spend as much time around my son as possible?_ ' No, you shouldn't think about him like that. He's just trying to do what he can for you. But what does it fucking matter if the end result is still shit?

You need to stop yourself. You can't let yourself get into a tailspin. You've gotta get it together. Just suck it up and deal with it. It's just more of the same old shit. Sure, you'd really rather not deal with it, but you've learned to handle it. It'll be alright. Just calm yourself down for right now. As you sit there, taking several deep breaths, the two of them get up and head towards the door. They step outside, leaving you to yourself. As you rest your head in your hands, you can feel your lip tremble slightly. You stop yourself just before your dad steps back inside.

“Hey, Tristan, we gotta head to the shop real quick to handle some paperwork. Won't be too long, alright?” You give him a thumbs up.

“Yeah.” He steps back outside, closing and locking the door behind himself. You soon hear the van start up and head away from your house. Yeah, sure. _Now_ he's willing to leave you alone by yourself. After all that, but apparently not in the middle of the day. Getting up from your seat, you head to the bathroom. For once, your mind is tired but your body isn't. You can barely look at yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth. You finish up and make your way to your bedroom. Shutting the door and turning off the light, you begin to strip. You can practically hear her snarky comment as you do. Letting yourself flop into bed, you pull the sheets up over yourself. As you sink into unconsciousness, you also sink further into the bed. Apparently it hasn't quite recovered from having her full weight on it. As you breathe, some of the fur she shed onto your pillow slips into you nose. You flip your pillow over. Gotta remember to get an extra strength lint roller sometime soon.

You're awoken by your door being opened. As you turn your head you see your dad standing in the doorway.

“Just wanted to check up on you. I gotta head out soon. There's something for breakfast in the fridge for you. Don't stay in bed for too long, alright?” You mumble back at him. As he closes your door, you turn your head back around to look at your alarm clock. It's a little before six. You should really get up soon. This shit's no excuse to let your sleep schedule get fucked. You hear him leave through the front door. Soon enough her van pulls up, and just as soon it's left. At least you still have _some_ time to yourself. Pulling yourself out of bed, you get dressed and go through your normal morning routine. By the time you're done it's more than half past six. May as well savor what little time you have. You head into the office and hop on the computer.

You jolt upright as you hear the front door open. Looking out of the blinds you see her van sitting in front of your house. You freeze in place. You can hear her stomping throughout the house. Surprisingly, she heads to what seems like the kitchen first, followed by down the hallway and to your bedroom. You _really_ hope she doesn't think you're hiding from her. You soon hear her come straight to the office, followed by her opening the door. Seems like she knows perfectly well where you are.

“Tristan. You feeling alright? Where you still sore?” That's it? Despite your relief, you can't help but respond a bit sheepishly.

“Mostly just my back. And my sides a bit.” She seems unfazed.

“That all?”

“Yeah.” She stomps over to you.

“Good.” Grabbing you by the arm, she pulls you to your feet. She quickly turns around and leads you into the hallway. You struggle to keep up. Despite that, it feels like ages are passing. Something isn't right here. She stops outside of your bedroom and opens the door. Bringing you inside, she closes the door behind herself and locks it. As she turns on the light, you see one of the dining chairs sitting alongside your bed.


	24. Reckoning.

She pulls you over to it and sits down. You want to ask what she's doing or at least plead for her not to, but you can't make anything come out. As you stand there like a deer in the headlights, she uses her free hand to pull your pants and underwear down, not even bothering to unbutton them. She then grabs you by the upper arm and yanks you down onto her. You're jolted back into reality by the sudden force of landing down across her thighs. She grabs your right arm with hers and holds it behind your back.

“Wait, no, plea—“ But it's too late. Her hand connecting with your bare ass stops all of your thoughts.

“I told ya. I told you to quit it. After all I did for you and then you go and try to run from me?” Only once the second smack connects do you really feel it. You grit your teeth and prevent yourself from yelling out. “I really thought I could start giving you some leeway, but then you had to go take advantage of my kindness the first chance you got.” _Kindness_ , this bitch is insane. How can she ev—Tears begin to well up in your eyes with the third hit. Your ass is already feeling sore. “I didn't wanna get rough with you, but you got rid of all my other options.” _Really_ , _you_ got—The fourth hit makes you flail and involuntarily kick your legs about. “I wish I coulda waited til you were all better, but I can't just let you get away with whatever you want just cause you're hurt.” You yell through your teeth upon the fifth connecting. Your teeth are pressed together painfully hard. She skips out on commenting before the sixth. You feel the tears on your face shift and fall as it rocks your whole body. On the seventh you begin to sob uncontrollably. The eighth pushes you past your limit. Your free hand shoots out to grab her arm. You desperately yell out.

“ _PL-P-PLEASE! Please s-stop! I'm s-so-sorry! I'm sorry!_ Just please, _please_ st-stop hitting me. I'm sorry.” Tears stream down from your face as you lay there. You keep pleading with her through shaky and uneven breaths. “I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you want, just please, please don't hit me. Please.” She lets go of your arms, wraps hers around you, and picks you up. You can do nothing but lay there limp in her arms. She sits down on your bed and pulls you on top of her. Laying down, she then pulls your head into her chest. You curl up into her as she puts a hand on your head and begins rubbing you.

“Shh... there there. You're gonna be alright. You're okay.” You grab at her fur to stop yourself from shaking too much. You can feel her now damp fur rub into your face as you bawl into her chest. She continues rubbing and reassuring you as you continue to soak her fur. What felt like an eternity in hell is now just a memory.

You don't know what to do. It may be a memory, but it's one you will not relive. You want to tell yourself to just toughen up and push through it, that one day you'll give her her comeuppance, but... If this is what she was willing to do to you when you're still recovering from literally getting beaten half to death, there's no telling what she'd do to you when you're in good health. You broke easy this time. Not like anyone else would do much better, but still. If she decided that you'd _really_ stepped out of line, even more than this time, and gave you one good smack across the face... who even knows? What if she _didn't_ stop when you caved, and just kept going? You so desperately want to call her a bitch, a psychopath, a piece of shit, anything and everything bad that a person could be, but you'll only dig yourself deeper. There's really no point. The more you feign resistance, both to her _and_ yourself, the worse you make things for yourself in the long run. You got greedy yesterday, overplayed your hand, and this is what happened. You were getting used to her, she was easing up on you, it wasn't even going to be as bad as the weekend. The more you do this to yourself, the more extreme the backlash will be whenever you inevitably fuck up again. You really just need to... for your own good... you need to... you—

Your lip trembles again as a new wave of crying comes over you. She pulls you further into herself, your face now being almost at her neck. She presses her muzzle into your head.

“It's alright. Shh...” She goes back to rubbing you, continuing to give you small reassurances every now and again. You continue to twitch from your crying occasionally, each time prompting a firm embrace from her. With both your physical and mental energy rapidly dwindling, you can't help but slowly doze off. Your breathing finally normalizes, mostly. Your eyes are drained, leaving just your stained, wet face. Your ass no longer hurts just existing. She's only holding you there against her. Not doing anything else, aside from the comments. Even those are lulling now, yet still starting to feel routine. Despite being closed for some time, only now do your eyes rest. You follow soon after, quickly falling completely into unconsciousness.

You awaken in your chambers. A servant girl reminds you of your duty. A sacred mission you must accomplish today. You are to descend upon the commoners of thine kingdom on behalf of all the royal family and inspire them in their time of need. After all, no one bleeds for the prince in the palace. You proceed to the dining hall to feast in preparation for today's great effort. As you savor your great meal of the morning, a tightness in your chest is sprung upon you. You rush out of the dining hall, swiftly racing down the grand hallways of the castle. You are halted in your tracks upon sighting of your mother—the queen. You do not greet her, for you are preoccupied with your health. She does not greet you, for she is concerned for your health. That is, ensuring it is destroyed as swiftly as possible. She draws her sword. Before you can react, she has thrust it towards you, plunging it into your chest. You fall to the ground. You have failed your mission. You have failed your people. You have failed your kingdom. You yell out, instead letting out only the faintest of gasps.

You're jolted awake from her shaking you.

“Tristan!” You groan out. Pulling the fur from your mouth, you realize you've been drooling. “You were really losing your mind there.” Huh? Oh right, in that dream, you got... stabbed, or something? She hugs you. “Come here. It's alright. I ain't gonna let nothing happen to you.” After sitting on that for a second, you start to remember earlier in the day. You quickly go through a roller coaster of the thoughts you had before you went to sleep. The flurry of emotions dies down as quickly as it rose, though now leaving a lingering discomfort. As much as you want to go back to sleep, you know you wouldn't be able to. You also really shouldn't. Even though it's going to be painful, you can't let yourself sleep through the whole day just to escape your worries in the real world.

Despite the aforementioned thought, you sit there with her for some time. After all, you aren't exactly able to move unless she wants you to. She begins to shuffle, giving you a kiss on the head in the process.

“May as well get up sometime soon. We were just taking a nap. Unfortunately.” With a hefty grunt, she pulls herself upright, bringing you with her. As you move from laying on her to sitting in her lap you feel a sharp sting in your ass. You jump slightly, letting out a groan as you try to hold yourself up. She hooks her hands under your arms and lifts you up as she stands. Bringing you face to face with her, she gives you a deep kiss. She hoists you over her shoulder and walks out of your room with you. She sets you down as she enters the office. As she sits down in front of the computer, she waves you over. She pulls you up onto her lap once again. You slowly lower yourself onto her, hoping to minimize the pain as best you can. You grit your teeth as you do. Even with extra care taken it still stings like a bitch.

She has you wrap your arms around her and bury your face into her chest. Pulling the chair in, she begins pounding away at the keyboard. You can hear it strain as it clacks. She puts her muzzle to your head and sniffs. You sit there silently, breathing her in. You aren't able to even begin to doze off, much less actually fall asleep again. This goes on for some time. A routine between her lightly molesting you, snorting, destroying the keyboard, shifting in the seat. It's too disruptive for you to even hold a train of thought. So, unfortunately, you can do nothing but sit there and think about whatever's happening to you at any given moment.

She stretches her arms up and grunts.

“Alright, that's that.” She stands up, picks you up, and walks out of the room with you over her shoulder. Setting you down, she lays on the couch, and again, then pulls you into her. At least this time you don't have to worry about your ass. You look up as you lay on her, noticing that it's a little past noon. Fucking hell. Feels like it's barely even nine. She turns on the TV and flips to the history channel. As you turn your head over to watch it, grateful for any distractions, you see it's playing something on the history of paper and written languages. She begins flipping through the stations. “Tch.” Thankfully, she finds something that's acceptable to her. She wraps an arm around you and sets the remote down.

You're startled by her jolting up a bit. She picks up the remote and mutes the TV. As you look up to her you notice her ears fully perked up. She looks down and notices you.

“Someone's coming.” She gives you a nudge with her arm. “Go wash yourself up.” The two of you stand up. As you head to the bathroom she heads to the door. You splash water on your face, put on a bit more deodorant, and even decide to brush your teeth again just for good measure. As you step back into the hallway, you can't help but wonder who could be coming over right now. Seeing that it's almost three as you step into the living room does as much to further confuse you as it does to help you. You also notice that she's no longer here. She's stepped out onto the porch.

You look back when the front door opens. She steps inside, quite upbeat. Following shortly behind her is a large deer man. He's not quite her height, but still big enough to be an imposing figure. The most notable thing by far, however, are his massive antlers. It seems like a feat that he can even keep his head upright. He gives you a small wave as he sees you. He comes over to you as you stand up from the couch. The two of you shake hands. Thankfully he keeps it short and normal. Though he does have quite the grip. Finally, he speaks.

“It's good to meet you, Tristan.” He motions over to the door, where you see the deer guy you walked to school with standing. “I'm Trent, Trevor's father.” Trevor gives you a sheepish wave and walks inside, closing the door behind himself. Before he can continue, Susan interrupts.

“Before you guys get to talking too much, maybe you should come over and actually sit down.” You immediately go and sit down at the table, managing to suppress any winces of pain. The other two follow soon behind. Susan sits next to you, with Trent across from her and Trevor across from you. Surprisingly, it's Trevor who's the first to speak up.

“Hey, Tristan.” He looks you straight in the eyes. “I just... just wanted to say that I'm sorry about what I did on Friday.” You cock your head at him.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He's taken aback. Despite that, he quickly continues.

“What do you mean what do I mean!? You let me into your house and then I practically assaulted you! You were crawlin' on the ground cuz of it and then kicked me out! Rightly so, but...” Oh, _that_ 's what he's talking about.

“Wait, what? I didn't _kick you out_. First, I didn't want you to have to waste any more of your time on me. Second, I really didn't want you seeing my back. I thought you might call an ambulance or try to get me to the hospital or something.” You sit there for a second, continuing to realize what's happened. “No, man, I wasn't pissed off at you or anything.” Did he really spend the entire weekend thinking that you hated him now? All because of that? His father lets out a hearty laugh.

“Ah, so it was all just a misunderstanding then?”

“I guess so.” He puts his hand on Trevor's shoulder.

“Well that's a relief, ain't it?” Face in his hands, Trevor mumbles out.

“Yeah.” After several moments, he picks his head up. “Well, it's great to see that you're doing pretty alright for yourself now after that. I just sorta... got scared, y'know?” You nod. His dad stands up and speaks.

“We should probably get going. Got everything all nice and sorted out. Don't want to overstay our welcome, after all.” Susan stands up along with him and shakes his hand over the table.

“Feel free to come over any time. It's nice to see that Tristan's making some friends for himself.” With that, they say their goodbyes and head out. It's just you and her again. She closes the door behind herself and lays down on the couch. You walk over to her. She snorts and pulls you onto herself. Wrapping her arms around you, she pulls you up to meet her. Her wet snout presses into your face, soon rubbing up and down your cheek as she takes you into a deeper kiss. You wrap your arms around her back as her tusks begin to scrape at your face. As she begins to moan into you, she pulls you back from her. Your head flops into her chest. You can feel her purring directly into you. “I know you're getting tired of waiting, but we still can't do anything too too nice yet.” You simply let your face rest into her. “Don't worry. I'll make sure to wring you out like a sponge the first day we get.” You lurch forward and yelp as she pinches your ass. You can't stop yourself from groaning after that. “Quit being such a baby. I barely even touched you.” Despite saying that, she promptly stops touching your ass. Instead, she goes back to the usual of one hand rubbing your head and the other wrapped around you.

You're awakened by her letting out a loud yawn. She gives you a nudge and helps you off of her and up to your feet.

“Sorry, but I gotta go get your dad.” She grunts as she stands. “I know you don't wanna, but you're gonna have to go back to sleeping by yourself.” Chuckling to herself, she stretches out her arms and then heads towards the door. “And go get showered.” You nod and make your way to the bathroom. You hear her van start up as you lock the door behind yourself. Getting undressed all on your own is more of a pain than you'd expected it to be. It's still well worth it just to have some time to yourself though. Your body still aches slightly as you step into into the shower. All of the twisting and turning of washing yourself doesn't help it any. Thankfully you're able to get through it with minimal issue. Drying off, you have to give a bit of care to your back _and_ your ass now. It takes longer than you'd like, but it's still over with quick enough.

Stepping out into the living room, you see that they still haven't returned. Sitting yourself down onto the couch, you let out a long groan. It does still hurt. More than you'd like to admit. It's better that you get over the pain now though. Don't want anyone worrying even more than they already are. Also don't want anyone finding out about what she did. Just thinking about it makes you shudder. You'd be a complete laughing stock. Your thoughts are interrupted by the front door cracking open. Jolting upright, you turn around. Your dad opens the door and steps inside. Him and only him. You hear her van turn around as he closes the door behind himself. You turn back and breathe a sigh of relief. As he locks the door, he speaks.

“You making it alright?”

“Yeah. How about you?” He continues as he walks to the kitchen.

“Work wasn't too bad. Easier than I thought it'd be, that's for sure.” You hear him shuffling through the fridge. “I'll definitely be glad when I can get back onto a regular schedule though.” Same. Very, very much same.


	25. Spiral.

You groan as you wake up. Forcing yourself out of bed, you shut off your alarm clock and get dressed. You can hear dad in the kitchen as you head to the bathroom. After going through that on autopilot, you head out and sit down at the table with him. You grit your teeth as you do, just about managing to stay quiet. Maybe splashing some cold water on your face would've been a better way to get really woken up. Well, it's better than continuing the morning like a zombie an accidentally trying to go to school. Nothing fancy for breakfast, but it's something. The two of you finish eating and he brings the dishes to the sink. Soon after he heads out the front door. You lift yourself out of your chair and head to the office.

A rush of adrenaline shoots through you as you hear her pull up outside of your house. A few flashbacks to yesterday morning cause you to sweat. You get up from the computer and focus on calming yourself. Acting like some terrified spastic is only gonna piss her off. As you head into the living room, the front door opens. You freeze up. You don't know what to do other than wait for her. She steps inside and closes and locks the door behind herself. She walks over to you. Your heart begins to pound as she grabs you by the arm. You follow close behind as she pulls you along with her. She then enters the office and sits down. Pulling you down into her lap, she leans back a bit and kicks her feet out. With your heart still racing, she begins to rub your head, simultaneously forcing for face into her chest. As your heart starts slowing down, she presses her snout into your hair and takes a deep whiff. She snorts and then pulls the chair into the desk. You grab onto her fur as she does.

Every now and again she takes a break from breaking the keyboard to sniff you. You can feel your head become slightly damp with how many times she does. Eventually, though, she finishes. Ruffling your hair, she brings the two of you to a stand. She picks you up and heads out to the table. She carefully sets you down in one of the chairs and steps into the kitchen. You patiently sit there for some time, waiting for her. After some time she comes back to the table and places a very full plate down.

“Up.” She then slips herself behind you and sits down. She gives you a light tug and you sit down. She wraps her left arm lightly around your waist. She begins to feed you again. It's more mashed potatoes and scrambled eggs. Again, she shovels food into her mouth in between feeding you. It's over soon enough, largely thanks to her enormous appetite. She stands the two of you up and heads back into the kitchen. After finishing the dishes she comes over and picks you up once again.

She sits down on the couch and sets you down on her lap. You grab onto her sides as she wraps her arms around you. You bury your face into the fur of her chest. She grunts and gives you a nudge on the side of your head with a tusk. As you pull your head up to look at her she shoves her muzzle into your face, forcing you into a deep kiss. Her tusks and snout again rub at your face. You push yourself deeper into her, forcing her tongue into your mouth. As your tongues fight and her snouts dig into you she begins to squeeze you tightly into her. Your hands jerk up her side and you yell out. She instantly lets go of you, pulling back only moments later.

“You okay?” Without making eye contact, you nod.

“Yeah.”

She moves her arms up to your shoulders and pulls you into her. You let your head fall into her chest once more. As usual, she digs her snout into the top of your head and begins to wet your hair. She takes several deep breaths of you. You do the same of her. After some time she pulls back. She does nothing for several seconds. Unable to see her face, you simply continue to breather rather than let yourself get worried over what she's about to do next. Despite that, she answers the question quite quickly. She grabs hold of you by the shoulders and pushes you back from her a bit. Shifting in her seat, she turns and lays herself down. She brings you only partially with her. Now your head is positioned right between her boobs.

She pulls her shirt up, it dragging yours up slightly along the way. Soon she's completely removed it, letting it hang partially off of the coffee table. She then grabs you by the hair and moves your head to her nipple. You feel your body heat up as you think back to that time. Taking her nipple in your mouth, you wrap your arms around her. As you begin sucking, she places her hands back on your shoulders.

“There ya go.” You can feel her begin to purr. “That's just the thing you need right now.” As the purring gradually gets more extreme, you can almost feel something in your mouth. She begins to moan softly. Is this... milk? This didn't happen last time, did it? You begin to shift a bit from pain as your pants get stretched. Your mind goes blank as you swallow. It's so completely different to anything you've ever had, yet so unequivocally superior. Can you even go back to normal milk after this? Reinvigorated with new life, you attach yourself to her like an industrial-grade suction cup. You melt into her as she begins to rub your shoulders. What was once a man halfheartedly trying to push open a door is now a raging beast beating down a blast door.

You can't let yourself pussy out now. There's no time for thinking about what you should or shouldn't be feeling right now. You have a chance to enjoy something and you aren't gonna let it slip. You maneuver a hand down to your pants and begin fumbling with the zipper. Eventually you get it open and manage to slip your pants down just enough to stop your dick from snapping itself in two. Quickly, however, you decide that isn't enough. You slip your pants as far down as you can get them and then slip you underwear down with them. Your dick springs out, smacking right into her thigh. Apparently only now realizing what you've done, she speaks through her moans.

“Damn, you're _really_ rearing to go, ain't you?” What? No, you—Yes! You bring your hand up and give her a thumbs up. You _can not_ let yourself get cold feet on this now. Not at this point. The time to chicken out passed the moment you put any real amount of effort into sucking on her tits.

For once, for the first and last time, you've caught her off-guard. As you awkwardly look up to her, not removing yourself from her, you notice her eyebrows raised. She cranes her head backwards for a few moments, then shoots back to you. Much to your chagrin, she forces you off of her. She then stands up, picking you up with her soon after. As she carries you through the halls you can't help but feel a bit embarrassed. Your pants are half down and your rock hard dick is just flopped out in the wind. The only saving grace is her shirt being off. She quickly makes her way into your bedroom, setting you down. She immediately throws off what little clothing she has on. Despite your enthusiasm, you are still quite slow. In the time it takes you to get yourself undressed she's already locked the door behind the two of you and thrown herself ready and waiting onto your bed. As you crawl onto her you can't help but feel somewhat apprehensive. Is this really how you should handle this? Just throw caution to the wind as soon as you get a bit too horny to handle?

Before you can let yourself think any further you lock eyes with her. Even though your mind is filled entirely with a near primal need to breed, something about her seems different. Her eyes don't look filled with some ravenous lust, or really _anything_ you've seen from her before. You press yourself to her as she locks her hands to yours. She pulls you down into a kiss, and into her. You can't help but think that she looked... innocent, almost? Your mind is conquered by the moment. The two of you moan into each other as you push yourself deeper into her. You can feel her furry tits brush against your bare chest with every thrust. Admittedly, your thrusts aren't exactly up to snuff right now. In fact they probably look almost pathetic compared what you could really work up—but enough of that. You're still feeling absolute nirvana right now and that's all that matters. That and the fact that you're finally giving this bitch what she deserves.

Her grip on both your hands and your dick gets painfully tight as you force yourself as deep inside of her as you could possibly go. Your legs stretch out so far you'd be concerned about getting cramps if you could think. As you erupt everything you've got and then some directly into her you squeeze her hands back. Your eyes roll back and you go stiff inside of her, save for your extra twitches and spurts. Soon enough you fall limp onto her. Despite the roar of her purring you still can't help but fall asleep. At least you would, but for some reason she doesn't seem too keen on the thought.

“We can't just sit around here, much as I'd love to. Gotta get you cleaned up soon.” Eh, she's probably right. Pulling out of her, you push yourself almost upright, letting out a groan the whole way. She quickly brings herself to sitting on the edge of the bed. You struggle to get up. That _really_ took it out of you, huh? Your legs are even almost sore already.

She picks you up by your armpits once again and carries you to the bathroom. As she sets you down on the toilet you have to lean against the counter just to keep yourself upright. You let your eyes close and rest while she gets it going. The loud and chaotic sounds of the water from the faucet manage to keep you awake. Other than that, though, you really can't think about much of anything. Soon enough you hear the faucet turn off. Before you get a chance to slip any deeper, she grabs you and brings you into the bath with her. The heat of the water and her rubbing you helps you relax and lose some of the tension that's been built up in your body. She only gives light touches to your back, but it's more than enough for now. As she works her hands into your thighs you can't help but moan into her. You can still hear her purring even as you do. You keep her fur from getting into your mouth, but it's certainly quite the task.

Unfortunately, it eventually comes to an end and she gets you out of the bath. After unplugging and unclogging the drain she begins to dry you off. After making sure to get every part of you she then gets to drying herself off. She gets a couple of goes over her body with a towel before being interrupted by a knock at the door. You both freeze. The only sound in the room is the humming of the bathroom fan. Her ears are perfectly upright. Then another knock breaks the silence. She takes a deep breath and cranes her head towards the ceiling.

“JUST A MINUTE!” If you weren't awake before you sure as hell are now.


	26. Bullseye.

The two of you rush to get dressed. It takes an almost uncomfortably long time as she has to help you with a fair bit of it. Soon enough, though, the two of you head out into the the living room. You sit down on the couch and she heads to the door. You're already leaned back and looking towards the door. As she opens it you're the first to see them. It's the rat girl and the other rat girl who was giving you flak before. The hell are they doing here? How'd they even find out where you live? As she opens the door further, they see her first. The second rat girl steps forward and speaks to Susan.

“Hi, is Tristan home?” Understandably suspicious, she responds.

“Why? What do you want with him?” You turn back towards the TV. Don't want them to notice that you've been staring when they come in.

“Ah, well, my sister just wanted to check up on him, make sure he's doing alright after what happened, you know.” Several tense moments pass.

“Alright. And you are?”

“I'm Becky, and this is my sister, Bethany.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Becky. Same to you Bethany. Come on in.” You get up from the couch, acting like you've just woken up from a nap. Bethany lights up the moment she sees you.

“Tristan! I'm so glad to see you! Are... are you recovering well after... well, _that_?” You prop yourself up on the back of the couch.

“Yeah. I'm doing alright. Still a bit sore, but nothing too too bad.” She bolts over to you and wraps her arms around you. It's a good thing she's so small or else this would probably really hurt. Susan quickly interrupts her.

“How about we sit down before gettin' on too much, alright?” You're _really_ hoping that she doesn't think Bethany is your girlfriend and that you're some womanizer. Bethany finally unclamps herself from you.

“Oh, sorry.” You follow them to the table and sit down alongside Susan. After a few moments of silence, Bethany continues. “I, uh, I didn't... expect that your mother would be... a boar. N-not that that's a bad thing, I just—“ Susan erupts into laughter. Bethany and Becky both jump as Susan lets her hand smack onto the table. She smacks her leg several times as she winds down from her fit of laughter. She wipes her finger under her eye.

“Hoo boy, that was a good one.” She rubs her hands over her face. “Nah, I ain't his mom. I ain't _that_ old.” Becky soon interjects.

“So, what are you to him, then? And why are you here with him?”

“I'm just his dad's friend is all. I've been takin' care of him while his dad's away. He was actually out of town for a few days after it happened, so even if I didn't want to I wouldn't'a had a choice.”

“Ah, I see.” After a bit more silence, Bethany speaks up again.

“So... Tristan, did you... did you like what I wrote for you?” What she wrote? Oh, that!

“Yeah. It was nice. I'm not really good with poetry, and I think I didn't really understand it, but yeah. I really appreciated that.” She clasps her hands together and squeaks. You can even see her tail swing out to the side of the table periodically. Becky puts her hand on the table to grab your attention.

“Tristan, could I... speak with you for a moment, please? In private.” What? _In private_ doesn't sound too feasible. At least not with Susan around. You look to her, just in case. She cocks her eyebrows at you.

“What're you looking to me for?” She gives you a playful pat on the shoulder. “I ain't your mommy, remember?” As she chuckles to herself you turn back to Becky.

“Uh, sure.” The two of you get up. She nearly bumps into you as you pass the hallway. You get the front door open and let her step out first. As you follow her outside you can't help but take a deep breath. The outside air feels almost alien compared to what you've gotten used to by now. You close the door behind you, soon going to lean against the railing of the porch. “So, what is it?” As you look to her you can't help but tense up a bit. Her expression is very clearly that of dissatisfaction. But what for?

“Have you been engaging in improper activities with that boar, Tristan?”

“What?” Wait, is she asking... about _that_? She puts a palm to her face for a moment before continuing.

“Have you or have you not had sexual intercourse with her?” Oh fuck she is.

“What? I, no—“

“Don't lie to me, I can smell her all over you.” Letting out a sigh, you pick yourself up and step towards her.

“No, Becky. Look, I...” You put on a pained and somewhat embarrassed expression. “I've needed a lot of help since that happened, to the point that I haven't... I haven't been able to even shower on my own.” You sheepishly look at the ground. “My dad was out of town and now even when he's back he has to work long hours. Because of that I've had to rely on her even to help me bathe just to make sure I don't injure myself.” You lean back on the railing. “Look, I know what it might seem like—“ She shrinks back, her tail freezing up.

“No. No, I-I'm so, so sorry. That was horribly insensitive of me. I should've stopped to think about it.” You look back up at her.

“Don't feel bad about it. I know you were just trying to look out for her. I'm not gonna hold it against you, so don't worry about it.” Her tail lays down and she stands up more straight again.

“I'm so glad to hear that.” She steps back over to the door. “Thank you for being so considerate.” She opens the door for you and the two of you head back inside. As you do, Bethany stands up. She looks to Becky and points to the wall behind her. The two of you turn around as Bethany begins walking over. Becky is hit with a slight wave of panic. “Oh! I had no clue we had taken that long!” She turns to you as Susan stands up. “We really best be returning home soon.”

“Got some important business?”

“Nothing like that, I simply have to have the car back by a certain time.” She briskly shakes your hand, then turns to Susan and shakes hers as well. “Thank you very much for having us over. It certainly meant a lot to her to be able to.” Bethany messes with her hands and gives a little nod. As Becky heads back towards the door, Bethany springs towards you, wrapping you in her arms once again. You give her an awkward few pats on the back. She then lets go of you to catch up with her sister. Becky gives a wave as she closes the door behind herself. You feel a heavy footstep behind you.

“So, who's she?” You turn to face her. She doesn't look down at you.

“She's just someone I know from school.” She walks past you and locks the door.

She turns around, walks back over to you, and looks you straight in the eyes. “That so?”

You stand your ground. “Y-yes. I'm not lying to you, I swear.” She snorts and ruffles your hair.

“I know you ain't. You aren't dumb enough to cheat on me, ain't that right?” She hooks her hands under your armpits as you nod. “Course it is.” Picking you up, she brings you over to the couch and sets you down in her lap. She picks up the controller as she wraps an arm around you. She begins to sniff at your head, but suddenly stops herself. “And what about the other one. What'd she ask you that she needed it to be private?” Oh no. You're _really_ gonna have to bank on her letting you finish and explain. Hoping that she's still feeling generous, you steel yourself and speak.

“She... she asked if... if we...” Just gotta push through as quick as you can. “She asked if I was fucking you and she said she could smell it.” She instantly turns off the TV. Her grip on you tightens.

“ **She what?** ” She pulls you even further into herself and puts her snout right behind your ear, her tusk digging into your jaw. “ **And what did you tell her?** ” You try to rest your hands in your lap as calmly as you can and not act suspicious.

“I said that it was just your smell rubbing off on me from us bathing together. I told her that I wasn't able to take care of myself while my dad was away and that I had to rely on you even for that stuff. She said sorry for making assumptions and then we came back in. That was it.” Several tense moments pass. She takes several breaths right in your ear and then huffs before returning her grip on you to normal. Leaning back into the couch, she begins to ruffle your hair again.

“Boy, it is just one thing after another today, huh?” She pulls you into her and wraps both arms around you. She pushes her snout into your head and breaths out. She chuckles to herself a bit, then sigh. “I knew there wasn't anything to be worried about.” _She_ was worried? She takes a deep breath of you again. “I knew you'd come around sooner or later.” What the hell does she mean by that?

The two of you sit there for the rest of the evening watching TV together. She continues her normal routine of molesting and occasionally teasing you. Eventually, though, she has to leave. She gives you a very sloppy kiss and tells you to get yourself cleaned up before heading out. As she closes the door behind herself you can't help but feel that's something's a bit odd. You don't give it much thought initially, soon making your way to the bathroom. As you undress, the thought continues. Something about today just wasn't right. Stepping into the shower, you try to recall the day as best you can. Your morning routine was normal, then she came over and had you sit in her lap while she did stuff on the computer. After that you sat together on the couch, she molested you a bit more, then the two of you ate. Then you went back to the couch and she had you start sucking on her tit. You stand there for a moment, letting the water run over you. And then... then you fucked her. Even the heat of the water can't negate the chill down your spine. You ate, then you sucked on her tit, then you fucked. It all suddenly clicks. She fucking drugged you! She put something in the food, then she made you do something she _knew_ would get you horny, then she 'asked' you if you wanted to fuck to give you the illusion of choice, knowing that you couldn't and wouldn't say no. It should've been obvious when started getting really uncontrollably horny. You'd never chase her tail and actually try to fuck her just because you were horny _without_ being drugged into it. You brace yourself against the shower wall and manage to stave off nausea. It all makes sense now. No wonder you were so complacent and went along with her so willingly during the day. That's also why you were starting to get scared of her again after the rats came over. That's when it started to wear off.

But... why? Why'd she do it? Did she think you wouldn't notice and that she'd be able to trick you into thinking it was your choice? But again, why? It just doesn't make sense. She basically wants you to be a free range sex slave. How would drugging you change anything? She certainly doesn't have any problem with doing it by force. There's no reason for her to stop doing that. Isn't it more trouble for her to do all of the drugging stuff? Is she... experimenting? Trying out new ways of raping you for the hell of it? N-no, no, it can't be. You can't even begin to imagine what sorts of ways she might come up with in the future if that _is_ the case. Despite your mind racing in a million and one directions, there's one thought you can't stop from taking center stage: Does it even matter? You even said it yourself, it wouldn't change anything. At the end of the day she's still raping you. You couldn't stop her before when she had a gun to you, or even just when she ordered you to. How's drugging you really any different? You can't stop her now and you haven't lost the ability to stop her. She's still gonna have her way with you regardless of what you do.

Any tears you may or may not have right now are thankfully indistinguishable from the shower water. You just have such a complete inability to so much as even begin to do anything about your situation. Your only saving grace is that you still haven't completely broken. She's still forcing you to do it. You haven't actually done anything with her of your own volition. You are still holding out. As long as you keep your wits about you and placate her long enough, eventually she'll go away. Eventually you'll be able to just put this all behind you and forget about it. Eventually things will go back to normal. Eventually...


End file.
